


The Ranger of Norgate

by Aseikh



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Awkward Conversations, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gen, Gore, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Sexual Content, Physical Abuse, Strong Language, Trying to get back together, Unhealthy Relationships, dark!Will, darker?will, erm, i guess, marked m for content in upcoming chapter, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 37,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aseikh/pseuds/Aseikh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where instead of joining Halt for the Special Task Force, Will becomes the Ranger of Norgate. When it's revealed that inside information is being passed to Araluen's enemies, no one believed as to where it would lead. No one thought the problem could do as much damage it was doing. Or that Will, of all people, would have to stop it. More about the AU in the Notes!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Redmont Leak

**Author's Note:**

> This here is the beginning to an AU I've had for a really long time, in which, after bk6, Alyss is presented with a really awkward situation of being proposed to by someone she's only known for a few years. After much debate, she marries him. Will, upon hearing this news, denies Crowley's offer to join up with Halt in the Special Task Force, instead insisting that Gilan takes the position. Will takes Norgate instead. His few years dealing with the Scotti, constantly, darkens his personality a bit.

_Walking down the hall towards Pauline's office, the last thing Lady Alyss expected was to run into Percy Lyon, a Courier out of Caraway that was transferred a few years back. Recently, Percy had been hard at work, and she hadn't seen him around - Mainly because she hadn't been around. She had just gotten back to Redmont after her winter in Macindaw with Will and Horace. And Keren, she thought wryly._

_Turning the corner, she felt a light, gentle hand on her shoulder._

_"Uh, excuse me? Alyss?" She turned to see Percy. Equal in height to her, with short light brown hair and hazel eyes, he almost seemed like a toned down version of Will, if you ignored the height. Where Will's features were handsome and dark, Percy's were handsome and light. She smiled at the man she was comfortable to call friend, and tilted her head in question. He smiled in return, and continued on with saying, "I've been meaning to ask you a question, but you left for the northern mission before I could ask."_

_"Oh," she glanced backwards, towards Pauline's office door. She'd arranged to meet with her former mentor at three that day, and she had already been pulling it close when she turned the corner. "What was it? Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush."_

_"That's fine," he nodded, and she thought he was about to let her go, but just as she was about to turn away, he continued. "It's just a simple yes or no question, so it won't take too much time." She hid her annoyance behind another smile. and nodded for him to continue._

_"Alyss . . . Will you marry me?"_

* * *

_. . . "That's why I want to form a Special Task Group," the commandant said. "And I want you and Halt to run it."_

_Immediately, Will's mind went to the worst. A Special Task Group, with Halt, would probably move him to where ever Halt was. Halt was Redmont, as always. The younger Ranger looked away. After hearing Crowley's news from Halt about Alyss' recent engagement, he really didn't want to go back there, for whatever reason._

_Hearing Crowley finish his speech of what it would include, which he hadn't listened to, Will heard the commandant say, "Mind you, you're yet to tell me if you accept."_

_"Let Gilan take it." He took a few steps away from the stump Crowley sat on, ignoring the surprise that even the skilled Ranger before him couldn't conceal. Looking back towards the Gathering Grounds, he could see people moving around._

_"Wha-wai, huh?" Was what the commandant replied with._

_Will turned back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Give the job to Gilan. He'd probably be the better fit."_

_"Bu-but didn't I just go through why you'd be the best choice? Either way, Gilan's got Whitby?"_

_He shrugged. "I wasn't listening. Mix it around. Gilan would be taking Redmont leaving Whitby open. That leaves your choices to be either sending me to Whitby, or Harrison to Whitby, and me to Norgate."_

_The confusion and surprise on the commandant's face was still evident, even as he said, "Well, which would you prefer?"_

_Again, shrugging, Will partially turned away. "My personal opinion? I know Norgate better than Whitby."_

* * *

_"And how did you become aware of this, Your Majesty?" Horace shifted in his seat. He really wasn't sure if this meeting was formal or informal. With his recent success in Macindaw, Duncan has been more open with him, also letting him into confidential meetings by saying that he was a new 'member'._

_"Considering the circumstances, Horace, let's just keep it to first names." Being fairly familiar with the Ranger commandant beside him, Horace nodded. He'd been called in rather suddenly, and upon seeing only the King and the commandant, he'd gotten rather tense. When he heard that there was apparently a leak of intel in_ Redmont,  _of all places, he began his checklist._

_Will had moved out of Seacliff and out to Norgate a few years back, and while he wasn't the Redmont Ranger during his time at Seacliff, he was there often and was trusted. With him being so far away, now, there was no possible way he was the leak._

_Halt, Alyss, Pauline, and the Baron were all long-time trustees of Duncan's, excepting Alyss, but Horace had known her for their entire lives._

_But then there was Alyss' husband, Percy. Him he didn't know as well. Horace had met him a few times, such as whenever he visited Redmont, or at their wedding. Horace frowned. Whenever he thought of Alyss' wedding, he could never help but to think that something was wrong with everything that happened there. It was obvious that both Alyss and Will liked each other, after everything that happened in Macindaw, and yet she had still agreed to marry that Percy fellow. What got to Horace even more was that Will didn't wait, or come down, for Alyss' wedding, leaving straight away for Norgate, not even stopping in Redmont. It had been awkward to be at his sister's wedding without his brother._

_"We need to clear this up fast. You already have Halt and Gilan in Redmont, and I'd like to send you, Horace, and another Ranger there."_

_"Isn't that a bit conspicuous? People will question the sudden appearance of the Ranger Commandant, along with another Ranger and a well-known Knight." Crowley sat forward in his seat next to Horace. Horace nodded, conceding that he had a point. Duncan shook his head._

_"Who cares? Even if it does tip off the leak, it could just tell us whoever it is. We already know that it must be someone in the high-levels, so if upon your appearance a high-ranking official leaves, then we may have our leak then and there."_

_The Ranger shrugged, not really bothering to argue with Duncan's plans. He had a Gathering next week, and would be telling the three other Ranger's about their includement._

_Duncan dismissed them, with a good luck, and a message for Horace saying that if he called him 'Your Majesty' again in front of comfortable company, he'd be dismissed from_ duty. _Horace smiled, and nodded, and began to follow Crowley out the door. Something made him hesitate, before he touched Crowley's shoulder as they left Duncan's office._

_"Who're you gonna choose as the extra Ranger?"_

_The only response Crowley returned was a mischievous smile, before he turned his back and walked out of the room._

* * *

Plodding north from the Gathering was the only thing Will  _really_  didn't enjoy about his placement in Norgate. Everything else was good enough. Maybe not what he once had, and had the opportunity to get again, at Redmont, but it was a close second. And, with the recent constant Scotti raids, he was kept busy, and the Baron and Battlemaster became a little less pompous, and a bit more serious.

Tug didn't mind the long rides in between Gatherings, and as long as he didn't push himself too hard, neither did Will.

"Will! Hey, seriously, why do you ride so fast?"

Turning in his saddle, he saw Crowley riding after him with two other Ranger falling in behind him. It was easy to tell who each of the Rangers were, considering the horses he saw, but he also figured they recognized him because he was wearing his standard winter uniform, which was different from the normal Ranger's standard winter clothes. He wore his black, white, and grey cloak, which would blend easily with the winter scape of Norgate. All the other Ranger's were just wearing thicker cloaks.

As Crowley, Halt, and Gilan made their way to him, he stopped Tug, and sat comfortably until the other three caught up with him.

"What?" He asked as they fell in beside him, thankfully the road being wide enough to handle four horses abreast.

"Need to ask a favor of ya." Crowley rode comfortably beside him, with Halt on his other side, and Gilan on the other side of Halt. Will glanced warily between the three of them.

"And is it something that requires all three of you?"

"Actually," Halt said, "yes. All four of us would be involved."

Will shook his head, and glanced at Crowley. There had been a weird relationship between them ever since Will had refused his placement in Redmont. Now the commandant seemed to be acting normal, or at least to him. "What the hell could be going on that would require the presence of three Rangers and the Commandant?"

"And Horace," Gilan added.

"Intel leak. Big one," the commandant glanced behind them, as if he was expecting someone to be following them.

"Four Rangers," glancing at Gilan, Will quickly added, "and a Knight," then he look back at Crowley, "Still seems to be an overkill." Crowley shrugged, and grinned. Beside Will, Halt rode along, grim as usual. It must be in Redmont, the Norgate Ranger reasoned, that would be the only excuse why both Halt and Gilan would be here. But why do they need me?

"You coming or what?" Crowley grinned a mischievous smile, and the only thing Will could think, was that there was more to it than Crowley was saying.

* * *

The last time Will had ridden in Wensley was the last time he had visited Alyss, had been a happy memory. Upon the news of her engagement, though, it soon became bitter.

Although, whenever he had ridden into the small village, he would receive welcoming smiles, some greetings, sometimes even old friends walking up and walking alongside him until he rode over the bridge. This time, however, all he received was confusion. He heard some "Welcome back!"s, but they were all directed at Halt or Gilan, and people were even recognizing Crowley. Was he a ghost or something? Were they ignoring him? Was his cloak blending in that easily?

His cloak.

The standard winter cloak didn't work for the northern fiefs, so he wore a black, white, and grey dappled cloak instead of the green, brown, and grey version. They didn't recognize him because of his cloak, and he hadn't shaved recently, resulting in a scruff.

He shrugged to himself, grinning. Not being recognized by people who watched you grow up? He was getting good at this.

They passed over the bridge, and the calls of welcome, at least for the three other Rangers, slowly faded away.

"Horace here already?" Gilan leaned forward in his saddle, looking towards Crowley ahead of him. Will rode beside Gilan, and the two of them were behind Halt and Crowley who were riding side-by-side as well.

Crowley glanced back briefly. "He should be. If not, I'd be worried. He had a few days head-start on us, not including the three days for the Gathering, or any of the time we spent traveling back here." Now they were riding beneath the portcullis, and Will glanced around the courtyard. Stable boys were glancing out of the stable, wondering if they were needed. When their eyes found the Rangers, they grinned and realized they weren't needed.

They walked their horses into the stables, brushing off the stable boy's weak offers of assistance. One glance around, and his eyes immediately caught sight of the large, very familiar, black battlehorse near the back. Will walked Tug over to an open area beside Kicker, and quickly brushed down his horse.

"Okay, we have to go to a meeting with the Baron, so we might as well go -"

"Crowley, I need to check in with someone, stall a few minutes?" Will called over.

The commandant gave him an odd look, "It's nearly night, who the hell would need to talk to you now?" Will was already gone, though, out the back of the stables, not waiting for his commandant's response.

* * *

Alyss tapped the note in her hand, wondering what she could do with it. She couldn't burn it, she needed it for later. But where could she successfully hide it, without it being found? She warily glanced down at her dress, namely the bodice of her dress.

" _Alyss!_ " Someone hissed behind her. She spun, her hand instinctively unsheathing her dagger, and bringing it up in defense.

On the windowsill in front of her, crouched a figure dressed in a familiar assortment of colors. Colors that reminded her to Will Barton, the Bard, from Macindaw. She dropped the dagger, and smiled fondly at the figure.

Will Barton, my foot, she thought, unknowingly quoting Lord Orman.

"Will? What're you doing here?" She walked forward to embrace him, and he swung his legs inside, and swept her into his arms. They were old friends, who haven't seen each other for quite a while, so she didn't really mind the fact that she hadn't left the window open. As they parted, she stepped back, and Will sat down on the inside of the sill, comfortable, as if he regularly climbed inside her bedroom through her window.

"How've you been?" He leaned back, partially, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to fall backwards. He didn't show any concern.

"It's been fine. How come  _you've_ never visited?" Alyss crossed her arms.

"I've been busy! Plus, it's kinda hard to 'visit' for the weekend when I live a good two week's ride away."

She gave him a look, and her voice suddenly went cold. "Horace told me you  _volunteered_  for the Norgate position."

Will flinched at her harshness, and was unable to find words for a moment. "Wha-"

Scowling at him, she turned away. "Denied the Redmont position, volunteered for Norgate, and refused to visit. Not even for the wedding, Will. Don't think that I'm  _not_ pissed at you."

Before he could respond, out in the apartment a door opened. "Alyss, you here?"

"Stay here." The courier snapped, before turned towards the shut bedroom door.

"Why?"

"Because Percy probably won't appreciate you climbing through our bedroom window, considering how scandalous that sounds."

"I'm a friend!"

She opened the door, and left, without responding.

Out in the apartment, Percy was standing in front of the door, a small smile on his face. It got marginally larger as she walked out of their room. There was nothing in her hands, the letter being stowed someplace hidden.

"What's with the arrival of four Rangers?" He asked, moving towards her. He planted a small kiss on her cheek, before moving around her into the sitting area. She turned with him, her eyes never leaving him.

"Halt and Gilan live here." She shook her head, feigning confusion.

"Yeah," her husband responded, "But I saw two others ride in with them. Crowley and one in a black and white cloak. Also Horace is here. What's going on?" He stretched out on the couch, moving rather smoothly. Alyss moved so she stood on the other side of the couch, looking down on him.

"Well, Horace usually comes here to train at the Battleschool. Crowley always is coming back and forth from here and Araluen giving missions. But you say there's a fourth Ranger? In a black and white cloak?" She forced herself not to glance back at the bedroom door, knowing it would give Will away. Instead, she glanced forward, out the window.

"Don't the northern Rangers have cloaks like that because the standard cloaks don't blend into the snowfall?"

"I believe so. I don't know any northern Rangers, other than Will. But he hasn't visited for a few years now."

He swung his legs off the couch, and stood up, facing Alyss. His hands in his pockets, standing comfortably, with a small grin on his face, most women would find him attractive. And she had too, once.

"C'mon, honey. I know you know. You don't want to confide in your husband? You know I would never tell."

Realizing what was coming, Alyss crossed her arms and turned her face away. "It's confidential. You're not a high enough level to be confided into,  _darling."_

He moved around the couch so he was standing in front of her. His smile was gone, replaced with a small frown. "But aren't we married? I thought we agreed on no secrets? Don't you love me?"

Blood rushed to her cheeks. She wished she could draw her dagger on him, but she kept herself faced away, acting as if she hadn't heard what he'd just said. She made sure her face stayed neutral.

Inside the bedroom, Will's head snapped up upon hearing a loud, harsh slap. The voices he'd been hearing clearly beforehand suddenly went deathly silent. He slowly stood up, and walked noiselessly to the door. Placing an ear against the hardwood, he strained to hear if the voices went silent or quiet.

Out in the sitting room, Percy was walking out of the apartment, a scowl on his face, instead of the usual handsome grin. Alyss leaned against the back of the couch, watching him go, a hand to her cheek.

As he heard the door closing, Will opened the bedroom door. Alyss saw him do it, but didn't turn to face him. She continued to glare at the door, her free hand gripping the hilt to her dagger.

Will leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "So, how're things with you and your loving husband?" Will whispered, before he could check himself.  _That was harsh,_ he knew.

That's when she finally faced him. Dropping her hand from her cheek, which was flushed red, she forced herself to walk calmly past him, back into her bedroom. Will turned to face inside the room, which was now dark with the setting of the sun. "Alyss -"

"Everything's fine, Will," she said. "I think it's time you go. I'm tired." He sighed, resigned. He moved towards the window, instead of the door. He put a leg over the ledge and a hand on the sill. He hesitated going over though, and glanced over at his friend's back.

That's when the front door opened with a bang. Boots stomped over to the bedroom door, which was wide open. Alyss faced the door, and Will froze on the sill as Percy stood in the doorway. He ignored his wife's defiant look, though, and kept his eyes on the Ranger in the black and white cloak.

"Treaty," he said coldly.

Will nodded politely, and said in return, "Percy. How're thing's going?"

His question was ignored, however, as Percy narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? With  _my_ wife?"

"No offense, but Alyss isn't  _your_ wife. Yes, you two are married, but she's her own person." Will moved partially, so he was facing the pair inside the room more. His leg was still hanging out the other side, based against the wall, but he turned the leg that was inside so it looked as if he was just sitting on the sill. Percy didn't notice.

"I wasn't saying it claiming to own her," Percy snapped, stepping forward. Behind him, Alyss looked blankly at his back.

"And yet," Will frowned, "you were."

Percy hissed, and started towards the Ranger in the window. Will used his foot that was based against the outside wall to push, and he straightened his leg on the inside so it would just slid out. Alyss gasped, and Percy stopped, wide-eyed.

Because, basically, Will pushed himself out of the third-story window.

* * *

"No one high enough to know the intel getting leaked is untrustworthy, though," the Baron, growled. "It has to be getting out some other way."

His office was getting rather warm, with all the people gathered inside, and the fire blazing against the coldness outside. Horace stood leaning against the wall beside the window, while Crowley and Pauline sat in the straight-backed chairs across from the Baron at his desk. Halt stood beside his wife, and Gilan stood on the opposite side of the room as Horace. The only person missing was Will, but he for some reason ran off, not telling Crowley where he was going. Horace had an idea as to where his friend had gone, and, considering the time, figured that Percy would be kicking him out soon. That was why he was standing beside the window, knowing Will's preferred entrance to the Keep.

Crowley opened his mouth to respond to Arald, but was interrupted when a tap sounded on the window shutters that were closed beside Horace. Everyone turned, confused.

Except Horace. Instead, he turned, and opened the shutters, revealing a man cloaked in black, white, and grey, crouched on the ledge. He grinned as the Knight opened the shutters, and slipped underneath his friend's arm, crawling into the room.

"What the hell, Will?" Gilan laughed, covering his mouth with a hand. "Why don't you just use the door?"

Will unclasped his cloak, and shook it a bit before hanging it near the fire. His clothes were the same as his cloak, a mixture of black, white, and grey. He shifted the arm-guard on his forearm, and turned to face Gilan. "What? Climbing is  _way_ easier than going inside."

"Than using the stairs, you mean?" Crowley snickered.

"Yes," Will turned to Crowley, his face completely serious. Beside the Ranger of Norgate, Horace shut the shudders, hiding a smile.

"Now that our last member is here," Pauline said, hoping to pull everyone's attention away from Will's entrance, "can we actually start debating this problem? We need to catch whoever is selling this information."

"Wait," Will leaned against the wall next to Horace, a frown on his face. "Alyss isn't being included in this? I would think with her rank she'd be here."

Baron Arald shook his head. "We'd figured to keep it with whoever Duncan sends, you, Horace, and Crowley, the people who would handle is otherwise, Halt and Gilan, and the person who's information is getting stolen, Pauline. And me, of course."

Will was shaking his head before the Baron had finished speaking. "No. Send someone for Alyss, she can help."

The Baron sat back in his seat, surprised by Will's objection. No one else in the room seemed to be as surprised as him, but Halt had a raised eyebrow, Pauline had a hand covering her mouth, and Gilan and Crowley were openly grinning. Only Horace seemed confused. "How can she help? Does she know who it is?"

His friend shrugged. "As far as I know, no, she doesn't  _know,_ specifically, who the leak is. But she can help, that I can guarantee."

When Alyss finally walked through the door to the Baron's office, her cheek was back to a normal shade, but the blank look was still spread out on her face. When her eyes actually registered that there were four Rangers, including Will, Horace, Pauline, and the Baron, in the room, the neutrality was changed to curiosity. She knew that they were coming, but not why. The letter she had had earlier was just a short notice that there would be two extra Rangers in Redmont for the time-being, as well as Sir Horace.

"Now can we continue?" Arald asked Will, irritably. Not waiting for Will's response, he continued. "So, now that everyone is here, and that we've had plenty of time to consider the reasoning as to why we are here, any ideas?" As he was speaking, Crowley had stood up and offered his seat to Alyss. She smiled at the commandant, and sat down next to her mentor. Crowley stood next to Gilan, at the wall.

"If it's the couriers that are missing the information, than it's either a courier that's the leak, or someone close to a courier," Will stated, studying his nails. He rolled up his sleeves, as if he didn't notice that the fire had died down partially, and that the cold was seeping into the room now.

"All of my couriers are completely trustworthy, Will," Pauline turned to face her husband's former apprentice, "You of all people should know that."

Will shrugged, and loosened the collar of his shirt. "And I do know that, Pauline," he smiled warmly at her, "but Redmont gets plenty of transfers. Transfers  _you_ personally didn't train."

Pauline seemed to consider his suggestion, but before she could respond, Alyss spoke. She had inferred the subject of the meeting from what Will had said of 'missing information'. "If we are speaking of a leak in intelligence, Will, then it'd have to be a higher up, like Pauline or myself. No transfer can get critical information because transfers can't get to higher levels as long as they are not in their original fief."

That's when Horace spoke up. "That's true. But what Will points out are technically the only way this information is getting out, unless someone is sitting outside doors, listening into conversations."

"Except that doesn't explain for the written information," Halt muttered.

"That leaves it being someone close to a higher up," the Baron leaned forward, interested. "But that would mean either the courier is sharing information that they shouldn't be unknowingly, or that their friend is blackmailing them?"

Everyone was silent for a bit.

"Not necessarily," Will had a knowing look to his face, and he seemed to be staring at Alyss. There seemed to be a hint of sadness to his eyes as well.

"Not necessarily what?" Horace nudged his friend with his shoulder.

"Meaning, not necessarily a friend. Arald said that a friend could be blackmailing the courier."

"Who else?" Alyss said quietly, finally meeting eyes with the northern Ranger.

Will shrugged. "Maybe a spouse?"

* * *

Horace pushed Will against the wall outside the Keep, carefully away from where everyone else was speaking. "What the hell was that?"

Will, who let himself get pushed, leaned against the wall. His hood was down, and his sleeves were still rolled up, but he at least had his cloak on. To Horace, who was practically shivering in the cool air, it almost seemed as if Will was immune to the cold. "What was what?"

"You know something. You know who the leak is, don't you?" Horace hissed.

"Even if I did," Will started to tighten the collar of his shirt, looking away from Horace's eyes. Even though he wasn't trained in it, the Knight could easily tell when Will was hiding something or was lying. "I've got it covered. Everything will probably be over by tonight, if not tomorrow."

Narrowing his eyes, Horace crossed his arms, and glared at Will.

"What? Don't worry, it's not going to cause anything serious."

"This isn't going to get you stabbed, is it?" Horace growled. It had happened before. Will trying to slyly solve a problem, without drawing attention to it, and him nearly getting killed because of it.

Will shook his head firmly. "No. If I'm right, which I am ninety-nine percent sure that I am, he's not someone who can hurt me. At least, not seriously."

Horace shook his head, and looked away from the Ranger. "Where're you staying? Castle or cabin?"

"Cabin with Gilan. It's easier." Again, the Knight shook his head, and walked away, without even a 'Goodnight'. Will straightened his collar, and continued to lean against the wall. The voices around the bend of the Keep slowly faded away, as everyone else retired for the night. Still he waited.

Someone walked around the Keep, and leaned against the wall beside him.

Alyss was wearing only a thin cloak, and her regular dress, so to anyone else, they would have questioned why she was still out there.

Wordlessly, Will again unclasped his cloak, oblivious to the cold, and held it out to her. All she did was stare at the garment. He gently grabbed her hand, and pulled her from the wall. He swung the cloak around her shoulders, and clasped it for her as well. She grabbed the edges of the cloak, and wrapped herself up.

"He didn't hit you again, did he?" Will whispered.

She looked away. "No." Her slouched position gave her lie away though.

"Tell me you're not going back there. At least for tonight."

"No. I asked Pauline and Halt if I could spend the night with them. They didn't ask questions, just agreed, saying they'd set up the spare bedroom with extra blankets." She still refused to look at him, instead looking at the wall across from the Keep.

"Mmm," Will followed her gaze. Suddenly, he held out his elbow to her, an odd gesture. "Would you like an escort?" There was a small grin, in his eyes, his face completely serious.

Alyss finally looked at him. "I can take care of myself, Will. If he hits me again, I'll . . ." But a look from Will made her trail off. She settled her hand on Will's elbow, still clutching his cloak with the other.

"He won't be hitting you again. Trust me."

* * *

Walking through a completely silent forest usually unnerved people. For Will, it was just an indicator that his plan was a success.

Will halted Tug, and patted his horse's head. "Good boy. Just a bit longer, then you can rest." Then he turned to face Alyss' husband, who, when Will stopped walking, had stepped out onto the path. "Percy."

"Treaty. Just thought I'd tell you to leave my wife alone."

The Ranger shrugged. "I leave her alone when she asks. If anyone needs that message, it's you." Anger flashed in the man's eyes, and he stepped forward angrily. Will moved his cloak to the side, and placed a hand on his saxe knife, showing off the large blade.

"She's my wife. I've got a right to tell you to fuck off," he snarled.

Will seemed to consider that for a moment, but he easily came to a decision. "Actually, no, you don't. Traitors of the Crown don't get too many rights, little less than someone who beats their wife."

Percy went silent, glaring at the Ranger.

Scoffing, Will turned away, and seemed to move to mount Tug. Behind him, Percy drew a dagger, and walked, as silently as he could manage, toward Will's back.

Will heard him anyways, and had actually figured that's what he'd do. Attacking a Ranger isn't something you'd do straight out.

While Will had shown him his saxe knife as a deterrent, what Percy hadn't noticed was that his other knife wasn't in its sheath. With a single foot in a stirrup, he spun quickly, bringing the hilt of the small dagger across the courier's cheek. He fell onto his back, grunting, but not knocked out. Will hadn't hit aiming to knock him out, just to hinder.

Stepping down from Tug's stirrup, Will placed a knee on Percy's chest. Percy then tried to bring the dagger into Will's exposed ribs, but the Ranger anticipated this move, and caught his wrist. He slammed in into the ground above his head, causing his hand to let go of the knife. He then forcibly caught Percy's other wrist, and brought it above his head like the other. He easily held the man's two wrists in one hand, and used his other to shove his throwing dagger at Percy's throat.

He cringed, expecting the Ranger to just simply shove the dagger  _into_ his throat. But all he felt was a harsh prick at his throat.

" _Don't think that I don't know the shit you've pull with Alyss,"_ Will hissed in his face. He pushed the dagger edge deeper into Percy's throat, causing a good amount of blood to roll down his neck and into the grass. Will didn't seem to notice it, though, and leaned closer into Percy's face, until they were practically nose to nose. " _And don't think that I'm oblivious to the fact you're a traitor."_

"No . . ." Percy whispered, hesitantly.

" _Shut. It."_ Will snarled, and continued to apply pressure to the dagger.  _"I have no problem with slitting your throat right here, right now. Realize that."_ He paused for a moment, and relented on the constant pressure on his dagger. There was a small pool of blood on the ground beside Percy, but it wasn't flowing enough to kill him. He gulped, and nodded numbly, staring in fear at Will's face, which was dangerously expressionless. There was fury in his eyes though, an amount that unnerved him. He'd never before seen anger like this. He'd pissed plenty of people off in his time, drunks, nobles, commoners. He'd done enough for people to want to kill him, but never before had he seen rage like Will's.

Will now spoke more clearly, but still in a whisper. "The only reason why I don't just slit your throat here, is because you are married to Alyss. As much as she hates you, she would not appreciate me just cutting your throat and being done with it."

"Wouldn't the others question my disappearance, as well?"

The Ranger of Norgate laughed, a sound expressing true amusement. Percy continued to stare at Will's face, terrified.  _Who laughs when they threaten to slit people's throats? A madman!_

"Nope! Because you'll be disappearing anyway! Whether I slit your throat or not, you won't be remaining in Redmont, or Araluen for that matter."

"What? B-but, you can't do that!"

"Oooh, you bet I can!" Will laughed again, but again began to press the throwing dagger into Percy's throat, so he couldn't respond. "Because if you do, if you approach Alyss again, if you are in visual sight of her, and I find out,  _I will find you, and I will kill you. In fact, I also have the authority to fucking slit your throat if I wish, because you've been selling the Crown's secrets after beating your wife to get them._ " Will applied more pressure to his knee, making it hard for the man below him to breathe. "But, I have a feeling that Alyss wouldn't like you getting killed, because she'd probably blame herself. So y'know what? Get the fuck out of this country. I'll be notifying my commandant of what you've been doing, so you'll be hunted. If you step within the borders of this country,  _everyone will be hunting you._  They will know first thing in the morning, so you better get going. Don't even go back to that apartment, because I can assure you, you don't need anything there." Will pushed him into the ground as he stood up. He stood over Percy's terrified figure for a moment, before turning back to Tug.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," Will snapped, before mounting Tug, and riding towards Gilan's cabin.

* * *

Will leaned against the Keep, in the same spot he and Alyss last saw each other. He'd just finished telling everyone, minus Alyss, as Pauline and Halt had let her sleep in, about Percy 'confessing' to Will. He had evaded the questions on why he hadn't arrested him, but everyone seemed to have gotten the silent message, even if it seemed to have been relayed by Horace.

Horace had also glared at Will, but with a question in his eyes. Will had shaken his head, and motioned that he'd explain later.

Just as he'd expected, Alyss rounded the side of the Keep, this time bundled up more than she had last night.

"Have you seen Percy, Will?"

Will shrugged, "I wouldn't worry about him, Alyss. He can take care of himself."

She moved in front of him, forcing his eyes to remain on her. "Everyone keeps apologizing to me. Do you know what that's about?"

Again, feigning as if he was thinking, he let a grin through, partially. "Well, I heard that someone accused him of being the intel leak. Apparently he told someone, and then ran off. If you think about it, the intel leak started a little after your marriage to him."

"He didn't just 'tell' this person, did he?"

"Hmmm, well, that's what I heard."

Alyss crossed her arms, and stared at Will. Their eyes remained on each other for quite a while, a silent understanding passing between them, before she finally turned away. "I guess that means you'll be returning to Norgate, then?"

Will mimicked his previous shrug, grinning. "Maybe I'll visit."

* * *

_Someone was pounding on the door._

_Horace lifted his head from where it rested on the table. No one had stopped him from doing so, but only gave him proud looks when they saw how tired he was. He didn't understand why, though. He didn't do anything. He'd only questioned his friend's methods._

_"Someone open the damn door, please." Duncan asked, a hand rubbing his temples. Horace didn't see who eventually opened the door to their meeting room, but he was thankful they stopped whoever was banging._

_A sweating, dirty, tired messenger stood at the door, with two guards standing to either side of him. It looked almost as if he'd just jumped off his horse._

_"Your Majesty, I bring news from Norgate. The Baron says its an emergency. The Scotti have invaded, taking down Macindaw swiftly. I was sent out when we got the news of Macindaw's fall, but I do not know how far along they are to Castle Norgate."_

_The Scotti have invaded Norgate?_

_Being a commanding officer, Horace knew he should be more worried about the possible loss of the fief, the death toll of Araluen's citizens to keep it, and the threat Picta was now to their country. But the only thing he could think about when he heard those words, was that Will, his closest friend, his brother . . ._

_Was still the Ranger of Norgate._


	2. The Scotti Invasion

_Horace dropped his head, hitting it on the table's surface. The majority of the room was in stunned silence, horrified by the news the messenger brought, and nearly everyone flinched at the sound. He felt their eyes on him, but he really didn't care._

_Before anyone else spoke, even Duncan, Horace asked the messenger in the doorway, "What's the news of the local Ranger? Has he done anything to prevent this?" He purposely spoke louder than what was needed, as he didn't raise his head. He needed to hear the answer first._

_"As far as our knowledge reaches, sir, Ranger Treaty was making his usual rounds of the fief at the time. The messenger who rode from Macindaw didn't mention him, from what I know."_

_This time, Duncan spoke, "So the local Ranger is missing?"_

_There was a pause before the messenger responded, but eventually, he said, "We don't know, Your Majesty. At the time, he was supposed to be visiting Macindaw, but we have no way of knowing if he was behind, ahead, or on schedule."_

_"So he_ could _be missing or dead, but you don't know?" Duncan murmured, crossing his arms. Horace didn't react, his head still planted on the table's surface, yet he could feel the dread rise up his throat. At every word, the knight wished to raise his head, and drop it back down to the table. Everything his friend had done in the past few years has exasperated Horace, going from the Will he knew when they were first in Macindaw, to the one that was threatening to cut throats the second someone angered him. Will should have stayed in contact._

_"Correct, we don't know his whereabouts at the moment," the messenger murmured back. He wasn't to know if the King was mad or not._

_"Okay. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Go get some rest, please."_

_After a few moments of silence, which Horace assumed was the messenger bowing, and taking his leave, he heard the door shut. He stayed bent over the table, eyes closed, as he listened to Duncan issue a few orders. Not much was said, but from what Horace could tell, Duncan was planning on sending a small force out to investigate. If the reports turned out to be true, they'd send for the rest of the force, which would be preparing in the south._

_Horace felt a hand on his shoulder, and he finally looked up, propping his heavy head with a hand. "Horace, would you be able to do me a favor?" The King asked quietly, looking down on him._

_The knight shrugged. "Ask away."_

_Now the monarch stood up straight, satisfied he had his attention. "Would you mind leading this force? You'll need to pick up a Ranger, considering we don't know where Will is, but that shouldn't be too hard. Think you can do it?" There was a twinkle in Duncan's eye, as if he knew what Horace was going to say before he said it._

_A grin spread across Horace's face, and he confidently met eyes with his King. "Of course."_

* * *

The old healer couldn't tell if the figure curled beneath him was still breathing, but he sincerely hoped that he was.

Above and around him, Grimsdell Woods was deathly silent. The silence was unnerving after having gone through the chaos of earlier. The remaining men of the Macindaw garrison surrounded him on all sides, some limping, some laying down, others staring at the bodies around them, blank. Some may have been looking for lost friends or family, but the look in their eyes said something else. Most were in shock, Malcolm could tell, but he was one man, and couldn't help everyone.

Especially with their only hope laying unconscious below him, dutifully kept warm underneath his warm, mottled cloak.

* * *

_Will shifted his feet, and glanced over his shoulder to the beginning of the alley. He could see a few stablehands pass in front, but other than that, all the guards were either sleeping or on duty, and everyone else was working. He saw Xander's form exit the end of the alley, and turn towards the castle. Turning back to the two people sitting on the crates at the end of the alley, he spread out his arms._

_"And you're sure Xander can handle this?" Will asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Maybe I should have gone myself. Betrayal in a place such as Norgate can be deadly."_

_Orman shook his head. "Xander knows where it is. I'm sure everything'll be fine, Will. Seriously, you're probably just making a mountain out of a molehill, like usual."_

_The Ranger pursed his lips, and raised an eyebrow in Orman's direction, "Like usual?"_

_Malcolm opened his mouth to intervene between the two of them before they started to bicker, but paused as he notice two people step into the alleyway._

_"Excuse us? Is Ranger Treaty here?" The taller of the two strangers called down. Malcolm frowned, not recognizing the voice. Glancing to the Lord of the Castle beside him, he noticed that Orman was confused as well._

_Will obviously must have been suspicious as well, because as he turned, he moved slightly to the side, which put his body between the stranger's view and Malcolm and Orman. His hand rested not on the saxe knife, but on the throwing knife beside it. Considering the time of day, the sun peeked right at the top of the alley, just above the stranger's heads. Will raised a hand, blocking the sun._

_"Who's asking," he yelled back. He pushed his elbow out, which shouldered aside his cloak, revealing the knives at his side. Malcolm didn't know where Will's bow was at the moment, but the quiver at his back was still full._

_With no warning, the_ twang _of crossbows echoed down the alley. Before anyone could move, Will cried out, his hand in the air flying back. Malcolm could see a crossbow quarrel sticking through his palm. The Ranger stumbled, and with his other hand, started to pull his throwing dagger out of its sheath. Except that both bolts were already shot._

_Will's dagger clattered to the ground, and he stood stunned for a moment. His eyes stayed focused ahead of him, but his now empty hand moved up, and touched his stomach. When his eyes finally dropped to the quarrel sticking out of his side, his back foot slipped. His other leg fell out from underneath him, and he slammed to the cobblestones._

_"GUARDS! GUARDS!" Malcolm registered Orman's yelling, but didn't react. At first he didn't believe that_ Will _was just_ shot. _But then his instincts registered the fact that_ someone _was_ shot _. Malcolm fell to his knees beside his friend, as Orman ran up the alley after the retreating attackers, still calling for the garrison._

* * *

Malcolm straightened up, still looking down on Will. He hadn't woken up during the siege, and hadn't even shown any sign of being alive other than the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Looking around, the old healer knew that he had to go check on other people. He couldn't just stay here with Will the entire time, not when others needed the assistance of a healer. But it wouldn't be wise to leave someone in Will's condition alone . . . especially because they don't know who shot him in the first place.

"Xander!" He called, spotting the former secretary over. He was a little shaky, and was currently clutching a jacket around his shoulders, but he was alive, and uninjured. One of the few. When the small man was next to Malcolm, he said, "Do me a favor and watch Will for me. You don't have to do anything, just make sure he doesn't stop breathing, okay?" He paused, and Xander nodded, wordless. "Okay, if he wakes, or if he does stop breathing, call me over. Good?"

Xander nodded again, staring down at Will's prone figure.

* * *

_The siege was chaos._

_That was the only way Malcolm could put it. How else was he supposed to put it? Maybe to someone like Horace, it wouldn't have been so bad, but to Malcolm, who had stayed holed up in Grimsdell Woods during the first siege of Macindaw, it was pure madness._

_It started a few minutes after he came back from the Woods, after managing to transfer Will there so Malcolm could keep a closer eye on his injuries. Trobar, a few of the pups, and Luca, one of Malcolm's people, were with him. The old healer needed to check in with Orman about what happened, so he returned to Macindaw. When traversing the open grounds between the woods and the castle's walls, Malcolm hadn't seen anything. No force of people, no siege equipment. Nothing. The attack had come out of nowhere._

_The next thing Malcolm had known, arrows were flying, people were panicking and running around, and guards were falling. At first Malcolm couldn't tell_ who _was attacking, but then the gates opened, and Scotti came charging in._

_More guards fell to their axes and broadswords._

_Orman fell with an arrow in his throat, while Malcolm stood beside him._

_A knight that was trying to maintain order, the old healer assumed him to be a captain, took an ax swing into the top of his shoulder, practically severing the arm and that side from the rest of the body. The blankness in his eyes told Malcolm that he was dead before he hit the ground._

_"RETREAT! RETREAT! GET OUT OF HERE, SCATTER!"_

_Malcolm, who was hiding with the non-fighters, heard the call. He didn't recognize the voice, but it spoke reason. Standing, he knew where he would lead the people with him, and anyone who could follow._

* * *

"'Scuse me, Malcolm?" He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the old healer turned. The man behind him towered above him, but not in the way Trobar did. The way Horace did. Maybe it was in the way knights were trained, or maybe it was their personality, but the good one's all had a few things in common. This knight, Sir Morgan, had the same stature and confidence that Malcolm's younger friend had, and that had, in a way, likened Morgan to Malcolm. Other than that, the two men had little in common.

Morgan had a shock of blaze red hair, but dark eyes. He was easy to smile, giving him a friendly look. But Malcolm had seen him lead out the remaining garrison of Macindaw, and knew the man could fight. He was slender, but obviously strong, as he carried a broadsword at his side.

No matter what Morgan himself did, the healer would always view him as a strange mixture of Will and Horace, exempting the red hair, of course.

Malcolm gave one last glance to the sentry he'd been checking, and walked a few steps away, Morgan following. "Yes?" Malcolm glanced back around him, and saw that he'd come to the end of the line of the injured. After this, he'd go back to check on Will.

"I was wondering," the knight shifted his footing, and looked around the clearing himself. He shook his head, and started over, "Eventually, the Scotti might make their way through the forest. The group of men that's currently holding them back won't work forever. This is a huge forest, probably with multiple ways of getting inside." He paused, and Malcolm tilted his head, studying the knight. _He's probably a few years younger than Horace . . ._

"What's your point?" Malcolm asked bluntly.

"We have to get out of here. I already sent a messenger to Norgate, but if we're all going to survive, we need to get there ourselves." Morgan crossed his arms, fidgeting under Malcolm's scrutiny. _He was stabbed in the shoulder if I remember correctly,_ Malcolm thought, _where's his sling?_

"You're wondering if everyone here would survive the trip?" He'd known the question was coming, but that didn't change his answer. "Not everyone. Most would, under certain strain, of course. Some would either have to be left behind -"

"I'm not leaving anyone behind."

Malcolm put his hands up, signaling that he wasn't finished. "Or, they could travel with us halfway, or as long as we can manage, and then leave them," Malcolm curled one of his hands, with his pointer finger remaining up. He wasn't finished, "and leave them at a town. It'd put them in harm's way, but at the same time they'd survive for the time-being." Morgan's jaw was set stubbornly, something Malcolm recalled Will doing multiple times. The old healer shrugged, and went to move past the knight.

In the process, however, Malcolm lightly tapped the knight on the shoulder he knew was wrapped in bandages. Morgan flinched away from him, his other hand coming up to cover his arm. He looked at Malcolm, a hurt look in his eyes. But there was also pain.

"Put your sling back on, Morgan," Malcolm smiled, and continued by. He had still had to deal with one last patient.

As he approached where Will lay, he noticed no figure sitting nearby. Wondering where Xander had gotten himself, Malcolm was also thankful that the former servant was gone. He'd been so silent and morose since Orman's death, it was hard to bear. But the healer knew that sometimes it was best to let the person get through his grief himself.

Soon he realized why Xander was gone, however. Will's eyes were open, studying the tree canopy above him.

"Where's Xander?" Malcolm murmured, sitting down to the Ranger's side.

Will closed his eyes, and held them shut for a few seconds. As he opened them, he said, "I asked for some water. He went to find a water skin."

To anyone else, Will would have just sounded marginally tired. Like all he needed was a good cup of coffee, and he'd be himself. Trained to see the signs, though, Malcolm could see and hear that he was more than just _marginally tired._ His breath came slowly, and his eyes were unfocused. His voice was drawn, as if living cost more than just plain talking or breathing. He'd pushed back the blanket and cloak covering him, so it was at his stomach. His bandaged hand rested on his sternum, gently curled.

"How're you feeling?" The healer rested his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He continued to study Will, not sure if the normally alert and suspicious Ranger even noticed his scrutiny.

"I feel as if I just got shot in the chest," Will scowled, and suddenly his eyes were clear, and direct at Malcolm.

Malcolm heard the tone in Will's voice, and realized that he'd be fine. It had been an act. Responding in like was easy, "Hmm, that's odd. I seem to remember that you got shot in the side. Above your hip."

Sneering, Will moved his uninjured hand to his side. Malcolm realized what he was doing, and moved to stop him as he sat himself up. "Will, please, lay back down, that isn't-"

"Isn't good? Isn't healthy? Won't I have to be getting up anyway?" He jerked his thumb, again his uninjured hand, at the knight that stood nearby, speaking to a man-at-arms. His blaze hair marked him as the knight Malcolm had just finished speaking to. "You and Morgan weren't exactly whispering."

Now it was Malcolm's turn to scowl. "That doesn't mean you have to walk. Or ride even. In your condition, I'd honestly suggest being carried in a cot."

Will shook his head. "Tug's here, right?" Malcolm nodded. "I'll ride him. Save the carriers for those who actually need to be carried. I'm fine."

"You're _not_ fine, Will, seriously-"

"I'll ride, Malcolm," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. Now he revealed how tired he was, and moved to lie back down. "I'm fine."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Malcolm stood up. He could see Xander coming over with a water skin. Before he left, he glanced back down at Will's figure, wondering if the Ranger trying to convince himself, along with the healer, of being all right.

* * *

From Horace's limited stand-point, it seemed all the castles and fortresses in the Norgate fief were based off the _Castle_ Norgate. To him, it looked like Macindaw, except for the fact of being much larger. Much, _much,_ larger. If you needed an example of a fortress for a battleschool apprentice, then your best bet would be to show them Norgate, and be done with it.

Finally tearing his eyes from the massive castle behind him, he looked around the yard. They were within the walls of the castle, and most men were either being situated or working on something.

He could see the colors of Macindaw on some men.

"They came in last night," Doric commented, noticing his line of sight. "Less than half their normal count, and missing all of their commanding staff except a lower ranking knight named Morgan." The Norgate Battlemaster gestured sadly towards a red-headed man who was currently watching the few Macindaw men that were still walking around. His left arm was in a sling, and even from this distance, it could be told that he was exhausted.

"Orman?" Horace asked. In all honesty, he didn't want to know. Orman was a friend.

Doric shook his head, "Shot through the throat in the beginning of the fight. Didn't have a chance."

Horace was silent for a few minutes, his eyes never leaving the man named Morgan. Orman was dead. He still didn't know where Will was at, and had no clue if Malcolm had gotten entangled in this. And he probably wouldn't find out unless he found Will. "Have someone tell Morgan he needs to get some rest. He's done his job," Horace finally pulled his eyes away from the knight. As being personally sent by King Duncan, he had the right to order Sir Doric around. "Any news of Ranger Will?"

Sir Doric frowned, and studied Horace for a moment. "He your friend, ain't he?"

Clenching his jaw, but not specifically annoyed with Doric, Horace nodded. "Any news of him?"

For a moment, the Battlemaster seemed conflicted on what he should say. He pulled his eyes away from Horace's scrutiny, and looked around the yard. Seconds later, he looked back to Horace, "He was in Macindaw at the time of the siege, but he didn't have the chance to help," Horace frowned, but didn't interrupt as Doric continued. He just wanted to know where his friend was. "But, honestly, I don't know the entire story, at least for him. Better go talk to him yourself."

Crossing his arms, Horace turned back around to study the castle behind him. Will would be in one of the many rooms up there, and he doubted Doric would know where he would be. It's not like usual, where you could just go find the Ranger's cabin, and find them holed up there. It was a time of war, and he'd be safest within the castle walls.

Doric seemed to get what he was thinking, and shook his head before Horace could thank him. "No, no, he's not there. He's still back at his cabin. Stubborn as usual. I think that weird healer guy from Macindaw is with him still . . ."

Horace didn't wait for him to finish, "Thanks, Doric. Make sure Morgan gets some rest, and check the usual defenses. I'll be back in an hour or so."

* * *

Before he had run down to the small village outside of the gates, Horace decided to detour into the castle to find the room of an occupant he did know the location of. She now walked beside him as they traversed down the path. A local of the village, when asked for directions to the Ranger's cabin, had pointed down this way, a small smirk on their face.

The knight and courier exchanged curious glances, but continued on their way.

Before long, they heard the cause of the local's smirk.

" _No,_ Will, you are _not_ okay, and I really don't give a _damn_ how you say you feel," Malcolm snapped, and stepped up the last step onto Will's porch. Horace and Alyss paused at the beginning of the trail, watching the argument unfold. Will himself stood in the doorway of the small cabin, and he did not look good.

He was shirtless, and leaning up against the door frame. A bloody bandage was wrapped around his torso, while another was wrapped around one of his hands. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, with the injured hand resting atop the crossed arms. Wearing plain pajama pants, with bare feet, and tousled hair made it look as if he had just gotten out of bed. Except for the dark shadows underneath his eyes, and the deathly pale look to him, he could have. Obviously, he wasn't in the best condition.

That didn't stop him, though, from acting like usual.

"I'm perfectly fine. I can stand, I can walk, if I really wanted to, I could run -"

"Damn it, Will! If you run you could very well rip open your wound! You need to rest." Malcolm stopped at the edge of the porch, standing defiantly in front of the Ranger. Malcolm was one of the few people shorter than Will, and he had to look up to his patient. Apparently he was also one of the few people capable of competing with his stubbornness.

Will smiled. "Great! Guess what? I have rested! I've rested plenty-"

Malcolm interrupted Will again, his eyes darkening. "You need to more rest than just a few hours of _unconsciousness_ , Will."

The Ranger's smile dropped off his face, immediately replaced by his previous scowl. "Like hell if you expect me sit on my ass for a week, doing nothing to prevent what I should have stopped back in Macindaw," Will took a breath, probably to continue the argument with the healer, but he paused. His eyes had flicked upwards, above Malcolm's head. Instinctually, he'd sensed movement. His eyes landed on the pair standing at the edge of the clearing.

His scowl loosened, but his eyes narrowed. Malcolm seemed to notice Will's distraction, and turned to look over his shoulder. He smiled as he recognized the knight and courier, and raised his hand in greeting. His smile grew as Horace raised his in response, and stepped forward. Alyss followed a step behind.

As the two of them reached the steps, Malcolm reached out his hand, and Horace took it. The healer opened his mouth, but someone else beat him before he said anything.

Will's scowl was back, strong as ever, "What the hell are you two doing here?" He didn't move to greet either Horace or Alyss, and there was a surprising hostility in his eyes.

Malcolm eyes closed, and he sighed. When he opened them, there was a silent apology in them.

Alyss responded: "Horace is here to lead the reinforcements that Norgate sent for. I'm here in case there's a chance for negotiations. And Gilan is also here, in case you turned out to be dead." She turned, and looked clearly into his eyes. She met his anger by crossing her arms, and raising her eyebrows in surprise. From his view, Horace couldn't see her face entirely, but the response it got out of Will was something he wasn't expecting.

Immediately, the anger quelled, and the hardness behind his eyes softened. Will straightened himself, and closed his eyes for a moment. While his eyes were closed, he took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. When he finally opened his eyes, there was only exhaustion in his eyes. Half-sighing and half-laughing, Will pushed himself up from the doorway, and walk into the cabin.

Alyss followed directly behind him, a question on her lips: "What's so funny, Will?" She asked quietly, a gentle look in her eyes, which Horace saw as he and Malcolm walked into the small cabin behind her.

The cabin itself was nearly identical to the Redmont cabin Horace knew. One side had a cozy fireplace with a few chairs around it, albeit, this fireplace was a bit more advanced. The middle of the room was partitioned with a table, with a bench on each side for at least three people to sit. The other side, opposite to the fire, held the kitchenette. The standard two bedrooms could be seen at the back wall of the cabin, both doors closed. The single big difference was that because of the height of the ceiling, there was a loft. It seemed to span across both bedroom's ceilings, making it a fairly large loft. There was no railing to any part of the it, and Horace could see the edges of a bed from where he was standing. _Hope you don't roll in your sleep._

Will turned, on the kitchen side of the table. "You were sent here to see if you can 'negotiate', correct?" Alyss nodded, her eyebrows drawing in. Will continued before she could ask a question, "Duncan was told _who_ is attacking, right?" He laughed, looking to Horace. Neither Alyss nor Horace saw it, but as he laughed, he brought a hand to the bloody bandage. Malcolm narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything.

The knight nodded, crossing his arms. "The messenger specifically said that the Scotti invaded Macindaw. So, yes, he knew." Feeling a breeze from the open door behind him, Horace shivered, and turned to close the door. "Why though?"

"Because," Will turned away from them, and opened the bedroom door on the left. He disappeared inside for a moment, his voice drifting out every once and a while, "one, they're Scotti." There was a moment of silence, where the three in the main room could only here the Ranger rummaging around in the room. They exchanged glances just as Will began talking, "two, they're after more than just land this time. Something more is propelling them."

Horace frowned in surprise, and glanced to Alyss beside him. She was frowning as well. Opening his mouth to ask what he meant, Horace turned back to the open door. Just as he formed his question, they heard a quiet "Aha!" and the door slammed shut. Horace's mouth clamped shut.

Surprisingly, Malcolm was able to answer the unspoken question. "I think he means 'someone', rather than 'something'," Malcolm muttered. He continued, eyeing both Horace and Alyss warily. "He wasn't injured like that from the siege. He was shot beforehand, by an Araluen Or at least not a Scotti."

That caught both Alyss and Horace by surprise. Horace straightened, eyebrows raising, than lowering in suspicion. _Before_ the siege? That doesn't make much sense, why would someone attack him before - _oh._

Malcolm nodded as he saw the realization dawn on Horace's face. Alyss had turned her head towards the room Will was in the same moment Horace's eyes had widened, so the healer assumed she understood as well. Whoever had attacked had wanted the Ranger of Norgate out of action before taking the chance of storming the castle. Whoever had attacked had known that Will had been there at the time.

Just then, the door banged open, and Will walked out with a shirt on, and he had changed his pants. He was still barefoot, and wasn't even dressed against the cold. Now, he stood straighter, as if he was trying to hide the fact he was injured in the first place. One hand held his boots - knee high, dark colored, leather riding boots, fairly worn, and possibly in need of replacement. His other hand ran through his hair, a habit that would never be broken. "What're we talking about?"

"Oh," Malcolm said with a smirk on his face, "just what happened to you, and why you weren't able to fight during the siege." He stated it with confidence, as if he knew which statements would push the necessary buttons, and not get him killed.

Will's scowl returned full force, his arms crossing and his eyes glaring down at the one person he was taller than. "Well I wonder who's fault _that_ was," he snarled.

Malcolm threw up his arms in disbelief, but in his eyes it showed that this was what he'd been expecting. He spun, and headed for the door. "Me? _Me?_ Was I the one who shot you?" He threw open the door, hard enough so it rebounded, and Horace held out a hand to stop it from crashing into his older friend. Malcolm spun in the doorway, ignoring the cold air that blasted in. " _I_ was just doing my job!"

 _He's baiting Will,_ Horace looked between the two, Will practically shaking with anger, something Horace had _never_ seen, and the other standing calming in the face of the danger. _Yup. Malcolm is totally baiting Will. Why though?_

The healer continued, "I would think it would be common sense that someone just shot through the _stomach_ wouldn't be standing a day later, much less a few hours. Either way, your hand wouldn't be able to support your throwing dagger, let alone your bow."

Will stepped forward menacingly, and even though he didn't hold any weapons, Horace quickly stepped in between the two of them, facing his angry friend. _Time to change the subject, I think_.

"Will! What are you even still doing out here?" Horace asked, waving his arm wide behind him, and gesturing past Malcolm. Behind the knight, Malcolm smirked once more, and crossed his arms. He then leaned up against the doorway, in the exact same position Will had been in earlier, except facing the opposite direction. Horace ignored him, focusing on Will. The Ranger, however, was staring past him, to the smug doctor. Alyss, having elected to stand back, sat down at the table, watching her two friends.

Before moving his attention to Horace, Will narrowed his eyes while still glaring at Malcolm. The menace was no longer in his eyes, but there was still a restrained anger that's ferocity alarmed the knight. But then he let go, transferring his attention to Horace. "What do you mean?"

Biting his lip, Horace glanced to Alyss, but she faced away, studying the loft area above them. "Well . . . it's technically a time of war, right? We don't know where the enemy is at the moment, so I thought the local Ranger would stay at the castle."

The Ranger frowned, and shook his head, "Normally, yes. But you don't know my relationship with the Baron and Battlemaster. The Battlemaster is the same as he was when we met him for the first time in Macindaw; stuck-up and cocky as all hell. He and I disagree on quite a few things, and I usually end up proving him wrong. He hates the fact that someone two decades younger than him can boss him around with no hesitation. He hates the fact that someone so 'disconnected' from 'his fief' has more control of it then he does. He hates—"

Alyss held up her hand with minimal movement. Horace didn't notice it right away, and wondered for a few seconds why Will had stopped in the middle of a sentence. There was a small smile on her face, and she now faced them. "Let me guess?" She smiled, gaze locking on Will, and passing a message along. Will tilted his head, raising an eyebrow to signal for her to continue. "He hates . . . You?"

Will smiled, and moved to sit down beside her. She slid down the bench, making room next to her. The Ranger let out a small gasp as he sat down, and his bandaged hand moved to cover his abdomen. "Basically. I wouldn't survive living in that castle."

For the first time since he backed out the door, Malcolm spoke up: "Don't forget to tell them about the Baron."

"Right," he hesitated for a moment, then just shrugged. "He's an incompetent ass."

Folding his arms against his chest, Horace looked down on Will. He sat uncomfortably, an arm still wrapped gently around his abdomen. Alyss had set a hand on his thigh, and was looking down at his feet. There was an exhaustion in the Ranger's eyes that he hadn't seen before. "You don't know when they're going to attack, Will. It's not safe to stay out here."

For a moment, Will looked as if he would argue. His brow dropped, he frowned deeply, and his mouth opened, already forming the words of denial. He didn't voice them however. His mouth shut, just as suddenly as it had opened. His face cleared, and Will shrugged once more, and looked away with saying nothing in argument.

He did, however, end up agreeing to go to the castle. He would stay at his small cabin for the night, and would rejoin them at Norgate later the next day. It bothered Horace how easily Will agreed to it, after just blatantly calling the Baron an 'incompetent ass', and explaining his difficult relationship with the Battlemaster. Normally, one would think that with the internals of the fief's workings so screwed up, someone, who should have been Will, would have notified Duncan. Horace shook his head at the thought that one of the largest, more important fiefs, wasn't all that stable. Instead, everything was balanced on Will's shoulders, and those others skilled enough to keep everything in order, instead of the Baron.

Horace walked away from the cabin with Malcolm in tow, Alyss having decided to stay and help Will collect a few things. Will promised to walk Alyss back, against both her and Malcolm's protests. Horace hesitated doing even that. The Ranger didn't seem stable, emotionally or physically.

* * *

Once more back at the small cabin in the woods, Horace walked up the porch steps, and to the front door. Will had agreed to joining them at the castle that morning, but for some reason hadn't showed up. It hadn't worried anyone at first, but as lunch came and went, the knight soon thought they had cause to worry. Malcolm didn't seem to show any concern for his patient, which had somewhat surprised Horace, but didn't prevent him from traveling out back to the cabin to see what was holding up his friend.

Tapping on the thick wooden door, Horace shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and turned to face out into the clearing while he waited. Winter was coming soon, and being as far north as they were, it would obviously be a cold one. He hadn't experienced a northern winter since the first time he had been in Macindaw, and he figured it would be just as cold. No snow yet littered the grass, but the leaves had lived to their due, and lay in small piles underneath the barren branches.

Behind him, the house was silent.

Horace turned back to the closed door with a frown creasing his face. Knocking once more, he quickly walked to the end of the porch, and leaned over the side to check around the house. Around the side, as he saw yesterday, was the lean-to where he knew Tug would be. A soft knicker greeted him as he leaned over, however, telling him that Will was most likely still within the walls.

Walking back to the door, he found it still shut tight. Horace looked back and fourth between the windows on either side of the door, and back to the door itself, before he glanced behind him to look at Kicker. The large horse just shook his head, making it clear that he hadn't a clue on what to do. Horace shrugged, and turned back to the door. He tried the handle, and found it unlocked.

Stepping into the cabin, and seeing that the inside hadn't changed that much from the last time he had been in there, Horace went straight to the room he'd seen Will go into the day before. Before opening the door, he lightly tapped on the door. When no response came, he quietly opened the door to peek into the room. From his view, the bed was empty, and it was obvious that it hadn't been slept in for some time. The knight stepped back, shutting the door, and moved over to the other door, which he assumed was the standard room that the apprentice would stay in. That one was also empty.

Sighing, he stepped back out of the smaller, but just as little used, room. That left the loft.

The loft didn't actually have a ladder, but it did have a set of steep stairs that started near the fireplace. Up them he went, half expecting the bed he'd spotted up there to be empty from the silence in the house. It was odd, actually. The silence. With winter encroaching, there were less forest sounds. No fire was going in the fireplace, and nothing other than himself seemed to move within the small cabin. The stairs creaked with his weight, and that was the only other sound other than his breathing.

In the loft, he found all of the messiness he knew belonged to Will that the rest of the cabin had been missing. Shoved against the far wall at the end was a large queen sized bed. On Horace's side, there was a small dresser shoved against the wall that had a few shirts folded on the top, and the top drawer partially open. A small writing desk was against the wall across from Horace, which was covered in all sorts of papers, and even a bloody bandage. A half burned candle rested on a nightstand that was next to the bed. The Ranger's double sheath was handing against one of the posts of the bed, but only the saxe was in the sheath, leaving Horace to wonder where the other blade was at. A few bows in oilskin cloths were carefully arranged on the floor. Horace counted three longbows, two recurve, and one style that he didn't recognize. It resembled the recurve, but from what his inexperienced eye could tell, the curve was much deeper and sharper.

A thin body was sprawled on his stomach on the bed, almost as if he'd fallen into bed. He again wore no shirt, maybe because it was more comfortable with his injury. As Horace stepped closer, he was able to see a small blood stain had gone through the bandage, even though it had just recently be replaced. _The arrow had gone completely through him?_

Will's head was turned to the side, and his eyes were still shut tight, even as the knight stepped closer. As light streamed in through the windows, Horace had no trouble seeing his friend's face. It was etched with exhaustion, and the dark circles underneath his eyes seemed darker than before.

Abruptly, Horace stood. Glancing around, he saw an extra blanket had been pushed off on the other side of the bed. Snatching it off the ground, he quickly fanned it out, and threw it over his friend. Walking back across the loft, he went over to Will's desk and rifled through the papers until he found a blank sheet. Grabbing a piece of charcoal, Horace quickly scribbled a note on the paper, before making his way down the steps, and throwing the note on the table.

Before exiting the door, Horace stopped, and looked back up in the direction of the loft. He stood there for a few minutes, staring up where he knew the sleeping form of his friend would lay for a few more hours at the least. Shaking his head, Horace turned back to the door, and left.

* * *

Spread out on the table in front of them was a large map of the fief. To be sure it lasted, it was made of leather rather than parchment. Small marks were indented and lined with ink, showing where natural landmarks, towns, lakes, rivers, and some of the larger paths were located. Near the southern end, a mock drawing of a castle's tower marked where Castle Norgate was, while another, albeit, smaller, was further north, marking Macindaw. Smaller drawings of walls showed where smaller fortresses were. The map itself was fairly detailed, but it was worn with time, and punctured with multiple holes from where people had stabbed daggers through it. At the moment, one small dagger was shoved through near the Macindaw marking, while a small grey pebble rested on Norgate.

They were trying to predict where the Scotti were.

Horace leaned over it, studying the distances and markings. Behind him, Gilan sat cross legged atop a chest, a chunk of cheese in one hand, his sword belt in the other. Alyss stood near the side of the table, to Horace's left, while the Norgate Baron and Battlemaster argued about something unrelated in the far corner. Morgan, who Horace had finally met, stood on the opposite side of the table from Horace, with Malcolm sitting on a chair next to him.

A good month had bypassed since the attack on Macindaw. They knew the distances, but didn't know how big the force was, if they were waiting for anything, or how fast they were moving. They could make all the predictions in the world, but it wasn't likely to be accurate. They needed to know more, but there wasn't -

Out of nowhere, a dagger slammed into the map, near a river that cut across the way between Macindaw and Norgate. Horace jerked back, Alyss flinched, the Baron and Battlemaster's conversation paused, and Malcolm and Morgan leaned away from the owner of the dagger.

Will straightened up, leaving his dagger in the map, and crossing his arms.

"I would prefer for you to _stop_ doing that, Treaty, it won't last much longer as it is," the Baron muttered, turning away from the room to look out of the window.

Shrugging, Will threw the bag that had been slung over his shoulder to the ground. It was his traveling bag, Horace realized. _Wouldn't he need more than that? He's not that far from his cabin, he could have brought more . . ._

The Ranger shoved his hands into the pockets of a jacket he was wearing, not something Horace recognized. He also wore a rough cotton shirt, and plain pants. His riding boots were still there, but the quality and height of the boots were hidden from being tucking underneath the trousers. The weirdest part was the absence of his silver oakleaf.

"What are you planning?" came the suspicious remark from Malcolm.

Ignoring him, Will pointed a finger at Horace's chest, a smug grin on his face, "You don't know where they're at."

Horace scowled, and reached forward to dig Will's dagger out of the map. "I'd rather not be reminded," he said while tugging the blade out.

As if he were trying to make a point, the Norgate Ranger cast a glance around the room to see who was present. His eyes swept over Malcolm and Morgan, noting their presence, and went on to Alyss. His gaze lingered with her for a moment, before his eyes went to Gilan in the back. He ignored Baron Cormac and Battlemaster Doric, letting his eyes rest back on Horace. Without turning to the healer, Will suddenly asked, "Malcolm, what would you have me do, should I actually stay here?"

Even though Will didn't see it, Malcolm narrowed his eyes. "Rest. That's all you need at the moment."

"I can't do my normal Ranger duties?"

Before he was finished, however, the healer had begun shaking his head, "Normal duties would be too much. You'd be able to walk around the castle, but I wouldn't want you drawing that longbow of yours, or even running around like you normally do."

Will smiled. "So, basically, I boss people around, but don't do anything myself?"

A sigh. "Basically. What're you planning?"

Once again, he was ignored, as Will directed his next question to Morgan. "You sent a rider from Macindaw to Norgate to warn of the attack, right?"

Morgan nodded, frowning. "Yes, but it was after the siege, when we were in Grimsdell forest."

"How long did he take to get here?"

A short silence stretched, until Doric responded: "Well, the standard time between here and Macindaw is two weeks. A rider, if he pushed his horse, and rode through the night, could probably half that."

Doubt clouded the flame-haired knight's face, "Yes, but that doesn't include a lot of variables—"

"Either way," Will glanced to Morgan, but turned his eyes back to Horace nearly immediately. "So far, the only way to know where the Scotti forces are at is if someone, like Morgan, sends a rider. But that depends on a lot of things, and he was lucky there was even someone uninjured and unexhausted enough after a battle like that to ride as fast as they did."

"I still don't get what you're trying to tell me," Horace glanced back to Gilan to see if he understood, as so far the normally talkative Ranger had been silent. The cheese was gone from his hand, and he now had his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around. His sword leaned against the wall. His eyes were glued to Will's, and even though it looked as if he saw through Will's ramblings, he shrugged his shoulders to Horace's questioning stare.

Will gestured towards the map, "Someone needs to figure out where they're at."

Alyss stepped back from the table, a revelation in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she looked between the two friends, and then to Malcolm. Murmuring a pardon, she moved around the table, and to the door, exiting without saying anything.

Horace stared at Will, incredulous.

Sighing, Will threw his hands into the air. "Damn it, Horace, I'm saying that I could go find them."

At once, three people in the room said, " _No."_

Pointing to Malcolm, "I can take care of myself, you know that. Plus it wouldn't be rigorous, just as you specified. I just have to find them, and stay out of their way." Next, he pointed to Gilan, "I don't know why the hell you said no, so I don't have to justify myself to you." Last, he swung his arm to Horace, "You'd get your location, and you'd be rid of me. Why not hit two birds with one stone?"

The knight began to shake his head, not wanting to admit that what Will was saying would spare having to send out someone else . . . Horace shook his head, "No . . . Will, you're hurt," he tried weakly. He looked around him, but everyone else seemed to be agreeing with Will. Even Malcolm, who was normally strict with his orders, was nodding.

Behind him, Gilan set a hand on his shoulder, leaning forward from his seating perch. "It makes sense, Horace. It would be a waste to have him sitting here doing nothing, and there's not many others I would trust to send on their own to do that task – because someone does need to be sent."

Horace broke his gaze with Will, looking down on the map table. His eyes first landed on Norgate, the castle he was sent to defend. Then his eyes traveled up a small, squiggling line, all the way to Macindaw, a castle he had once defended, and was too late to defend this time around. He sighed, and looked down to the table. For once, Horace was alone with this one. The Baron and Battlemaster weren't about to step in on this, and either way, he was in charge of them. Will was only asking out of politeness. His ranking was equal – in some matters, above – Horace's own rank, and technically didn't need to ask to leave. Gilan was able to advise, but it seemed he was leaving this decision to him.

Sighing again, Horace brought his eyes back up, scrutinizing his friend. "You'll leave whether or whether not I say yes, I assume?"

A crooked grin broke out on Will's face. No answer was required for that.

* * *

Malcolm chucked Will's shirt, narrowly missing the Ranger's head as he ducked to the side.

"Promise," the healer snapped, seemingly angry even though his words were more of a concerned friend, "promise that you won't do anything stupid and get yourself injured again. Or killed."

Will crossed his arms against his bandaged stomach. "Why do you assume that I'll do something?"

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Malcolm smiled. Viciously. Surprised, the Ranger took a step back. The healer opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment there was a light knock on the door. Seconds later, it opened to reveal Alyss, wearing riding clothes. They were probably warmer than her dress.

The two men went quiet, and for a moment the room was still with an awkward silence. Elegant as always, however, Alyss quickly smiled, and said, "Malcolm, would you mind giving Will and me some privacy?"

Silently, the healer nodded, and threw a death glare over his shoulder to Will before he passed out of the room, and around the corner.

They stood there for a moment, before Alyss gave him a small smile, and motioned towards the shirt that was on the floor. It had landed atop of his boots. As he moved to pick them up, the Courier moved back near the side of the door, leaning against the wall. As the silence stretched, Will picked up the ball that his shirt was in, thrashing it a bit in his hand after picking it up off the floor. The bandages around his abdomen were white, freshly wrapped around the clean wound. His hand also held a thin band of fresh bandages, but weren't as thick as they were around his stomach.

He threw the shirt on, shoving his head through the collar, and stiffly twisting his arms around to get them into the sleeves without overly stressing the wound.

"Why did you volunteer to be the Norgate Ranger?" The question seemed to push itself through the Courier's tightly pursed lips. They both had known there was tension building—it had since she walked in—but that was the last question Will had expected to be the problem.

Surprisingly, to Alyss, something in Will shut down the moment those words escaped her lips. Before he had seemed himself, open and at least somewhat cheerful. But after she voiced the question that had been nagging her for months since he left Redmont to return to Norgate, he wasn't himself.

He was the Ranger of Norgate.

"Why does it matter?" Will breathed, straightening his shirt as if nothing had happened.

Alyss, however, was not to be deterred. "Because I want to know," she said simply. Before Will could say anything else, she repeated her question.

Will scowled, and bent down to pick up his boots. His riding boots. _So he's leaving right away . . ._ He sat himself on a bed, his back to Alyss and him facing the wall. "I didn't have that much of a choice," he muttered.

"But I thought Crowley offered the Special Task Force to you, right?" Alyss kept her eyes trained on his back, watching as he shoved one foot into the boot then stretched out his leg to pull the sides all the way to his knee.

He began to lace up the boot, anchoring his foot on the wall. "Gilan was given the job," he said shortly.

Even though he didn't see, Alyss shook her head vigorously. "But you were offered before Gilan was. You told Crowley to give it to him, didn't you?"

Not even halfway done lacing the first boot, his foot slipped from the stone, and he turned to face Alyss. The hostility in his eyes surprised her. "How the hell do you even know that?"

Steeling herself, she squared her shoulders, and moved forward, pushing herself off the wall. "Why did you volunteer to take Norgate, Will," she said softly, "when Redmont was opened to you?"

Blood rushed to Will's face, and he quickly turned back to lacing up his boot. He made short work of the boot, tying a tight knot just above his kneecap, before moving to the next boot. He did the same as the last, shoving it on his foot and drawing it up the sides of his calf. He began lacing that one up.

Alyss stepped forward again, putting herself beside Will as he quickly laced up the riding boots. "Will? Why did you volunteer?"

Will didn't know why he asked the next question, but since it seemed like it was 'ask questions that didn't concern you' day, he decided that maybe he could get an answer for himself: "Well, why the hell did you marry Percy in the first place?"

The question didn't even cause her to hesitate. She pushed on, "Why did you leave?"

Roughly, he finished tying the last knot on his boot, and he stood up, startling her. Walking past, he went to where a jacket, his cloak, quiver, and travel bag waited. He threw on the jacket, ignoring her.

"Will?"

After the jacket, he slung the quiver over his shoulder, tightening the strap, and fixing the arrows in place. He threw the cloak around his shoulders, slipping the tips of the arrows through the slit in the cloak, and securing the clasp.

He still didn't respond.

"Will?" Alyss leaned towards him.

Abruptly, he snapped, "Damn it, I already answered, so stop pestering me."

Alyss flinched, surprised by his anger.

He stood there, fully dressed, and ready to leave. But he didn't move. Will stared at the wall, deliberately not looking at her. His face was still bright red, but it was slowly draining from his face, leaving just his cheeks red. Had he already answered? The only question he hadn't avoided or ignored was . . . none of them. He'd slunk around every answer, either asking a question in return, or not directly answering the question she had asked.

And then it came to her.

_Well, why the hell did you marry Percy in the first place?_

She recalled a hint of jealousy in his voice, thinking back.

Now she felt the blood color her cheeks red, realizing what he had just revealed.

"O-oh," she stuttered, shaking off her doubts. This was Will she was talking to. There was nothing wrong with this. "Well," she continued, "at the time, I knew him as a good friend. When he proposed, I do have to admit that I was surprised. He was a good friend, but I never had . . . interest in him," she paused, considering how to put the next part. "I preferred you, Will, if you were wondering. At the time we were in a relationship, and it should have been obvious to Percy, but he went ahead and proposed."

Will's eyes were traveling the room, landing on anything but her. As she finished, they landed on her neck, making her pause. They flicked up to her eyes when her voice faltered. He tilted his head, letting her know to continue.

She began again, confused as to why she had stopped in the first place. "I was planning on denying him, actually. But then I got word that you were leaving for Norgate, instead of coming to Redmont. I knew Norgate was a hard place, knew you'd either die here, or come back a different person. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd ever be coming near Redmont again. So I decided to throw my dice in with Percy. He was nice, I enjoyed his company at the time. He didn't seem like the type of person to . . . hurt me."

Will's eyes had wandered away from her's again, but as she ended, they snapped back. Slowly they narrowed, studying her. Scrutinizing her.

He turned away, saying nothing.

As he got to the door, however, he did mutter something under his breath. She took her chance, "What did you say?"

He stopped, hand resting on the handle. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly as he stared at the hardwood. Quietly, he said, "Funny, because I decided to go to Norgate because I heard that you decided to accept."

Alyss was stunned. "Where the hell did you here that?"

Sighing, Will leaned forward, knocking his forehead against the wood. "You," he whispered, closing his eyes.

The silence stretched, the tension nearly thick enough to cut. At least for Will. Alyss, on the other hand, was just plainly confused. Too confused to say more, she said one word: "Explain."

His eyes opened, and he rolled his forehead partially across the wood to get a better look at Alyss. He was as confused as she was. "What?"

"Explain," she waved her hand, the other coming up to her hair, twisting it as the confusion mounted.

Hesitating, Will did as he was asked, "When I heard that someone proposed to you . . . I came to Redmont to talk to you . . . not to stop you or anything, just to see what you would do, or if you wanted to talk to me . . . I-I had gotten a letter from Gilan, who'd been through Redmont at the time, so he's the one who told me," he stood straight, putting his back to the wood, and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He refused to look at Alyss, and looked at the wall once more. "I overheard you talking to Pauline . . . I don't remember exactly what you said, but it sounded as if you had already decided to accept, but that you didn't really know what to do with me . . . I figured to make it easier for you, and decided to leave. Easier for both of us," the last line he nearly whispered, eyes dropping to the floor.

This time, the silence didn't last as long.

Alyss' laughter burst out louder than she had expected, but she really couldn't have helped it. The situation was too _funny_.

 _I had to deal with all of this, because of_ that _conversation._

Annoyed, Will's scowl returned as he snapped out, "Can you at least explain what the hell you're laughing at before you fall over?" His arm grabbed her shoulder, dragging her upright before she toppled over from clutching her stomach.

Gasping in a few breaths, the Courier calmed herself, leaning against a chair that was behind her. She smiled at Will, though, and reached out a hand to touch his cheek. "Will, honey, you misheard that conversation. You must have heard the tail end of it, but I never said that I was going to accept Percy's proposal. I _did_ say that I didn't want to be with you in the type of relationship we had at the moment much longer, but that was because I didn't want you traveling back and forth between your fief and mine just so we could see each other for a few days," she caught her breath, and let out another small laugh, looking for any sign of understanding on Will's face. Confusion still clouded his face, so she continued, "Will, I was going to deny Percy. I wanted to stay with you. I loved you, not him. I never loved him—I may have liked him—but I could have never loved that man. I would have rather been with you, forever. Not him."

As she came to an end, the message finally sunk in for the Ranger. His eyes widened, and his mouth, which had fallen open nearer the beginning, slowly closed as he came to realize his mistake. The remaining color drained from his face.

* * *

It was an hour past noon when he finally mounted Tug, and rode through Norgate's gates.

Beforehand, he'd accepted a gift from Malcolm, a small notebook and parcel. The small healer murmured something about pain medication, fresh bandages, and instructions if things got worse. The notebook was actually filled with things he could do if he was poisoned with common Scotti herbs, if either of his wounds got infected, or if he got other injuries. A message passed between the two of them, unsaid. Will brought the smaller healer into a hug, whispered a thank you in his ear, and drew back.

Apparently, it was just friendly bickering, and not actual arguments anyone should be concerned about that were part of their everyday interactions.

It was determined that Will would be using one of the Baron's hawks to carry messages. The bird was mainly used for hunting, but it was also familiar with carrying messages, knew Will, and obviously knew the location of Norgate. None of the visitors asked how or why the hawk was familiar with Will, but they did notice how it squabbled when it was on the Baron's glove, but seemed to calm down when it perched nearby Will on a tree.

Surprising everyone, including Will, Alyss leaned forward, and kissed Will on the lips. It was brief, and seconds after they parted, the Ranger was atop Tug, his cheeks flushed.

That's when Horace learned something new about Will.

As he stepped on the stirrup, he had pushed his cloak aside a bit, so he wouldn't get it tangled. As he did that, however, Horace saw the glint of a hidden dagger in one of Will's boots. As the knight's eyes traveled up to Will's to question it, he caught sight of another, on the inside of his forearm. He drew back, surprised.

Will saw him.

The two of them locked eyes for a moment. Will knew what he had saw, but thought nothing of it. He grinned, and settled onto the back of the small horse.

"See you in a few months, right?" He smirked, and turned Tug's head out the gate.

* * *

_**Four months later** _

Small needles in the map ran all the way around Norgate fief, signifying any villages that had been sacked by the invading Scotti. Green paint dipped needles marked any position updates from Will on the main Scotti force.

Duncan sighed, studying the letter they had just received from a small town to the west. Smoke was spotted coming from a nearby village, and when investigated, they found more than half the inhabitants slaughtered, along with all of their animals. Any survivors they found were later brought to live in the nearby town, from where the letter had been posted.

Waving his hand, Duncan pointed in the general area that the new needle should be placed, and an Araluen soldier complied, a tired look in his eyes.

The King looked up, hearing sounds coming from through the closed wooden door. Someone was yelling, arguing with someone else.

Before the door banged open, Horace glanced down at the map, looking for the latest update pin they had gotten from Will. Finding it, he recalled that Will's letter had estimated them still to be a month off from arrival. That had come in just two days ago.

A soldier burst into the room, his face flushed from having just come in from the cool outdoors. A small crowd of people stood in the hallway behind him, looking curiously into the room to see what was happening. The soldier gave a quick salute, and started without Duncan telling him to: "Your Majesty, from the walls, it was seen that someone was evacuating the locals, and sending them up here. We opened the gates to them, of course, but when asked who was evacuating them, they said Ranger Will."

* * *

Horace reined in Kicker, pulling back from a full gallop. He had ridden past a small trail of villagers, all of their eyes curiously following him as he rode past. Entering town from where the trail followed, Horace quickly rode to the center of the town, and wheeled Kicker around, looking for the Ranger. _Why would he be back so early? Did the Scotti travel faster, and get here before he predicted?_

A few people rushed past, two women and a child between them. The child was bundled in winter clothes, while the two woman struggled with just thin dresses and shawls thrown over. Struggling through the snow would have been hard, but Horace couldn't risk to pay them any mind. They glanced quickly to him, recognized him, and continued past, towards Norgate. Seemingly understanding that he couldn't help them at the moment. Horace moved down the street he saw them come from, urging Kicker back into a canter.

And there he was.

Will sat astride Tug, standing on the stirrups to put him even higher. Some of the few remaining villagers mingled around him, while a few more people were finishing up taking some of their belongings out of their houses. Over the crowd, the two friends made eye contact, simultaneously moving to meet each other halfway.

As they met, Will reached over, snatching a handful of Horace's sleeve, drawing his closer.

"There were two forces," Will whispered quickly into his ear, not wanting the villagers to hear, "I didn't know of the second until the two of them converged, and I was nearly stuck in the middle. They weren't completely Scotti, but I didn't risk getting too close to see who the others were. By the time I got around, they had sent a vanguard, which traveled faster than I was expecting," Will took a quick breath, and looked around them, but kept a tight grip on Horace's arm. _Something's alarmed him,_ Horace thought. Whispering again, his voice more hoarse this time, Will continued, "I'll go back and continue watching them, and I'll try to get back before you have to close the gates, but I'll be able to warn you when they're coming," he turned, and motioned towards a single house. Outside were a few kids, all looking confused and frightened. "Mae is inside, but she run's a small orphanage. Kinda like the Ward, but not supervised by the Baron or any official. It's just her, so _please_ make sure all the kids get out."

Before Horace could think otherwise, he nodded, agreeing. When what he agreed to finally sunk in, the Ranger was out of his reach, already riding towards the town's edge, and back into the forest. Snow covered the ground liberally, and the signature grey and white cloak disappeared instantly.

* * *

He didn't know how close they were, but he knew they were _close._ He'd only just lost them, but his injury was throbbing again, after a month of it being somewhat okay.

As far as Will knew, they hadn't _seen_ him. They'd known he was there, and took actions against him, but they hadn't specifically seen him. They had no clue that someone had been giving away their position for the last four months, nor why some of their commanding officers were slowly disappearing. Not that he had been killing them – no, he wasn't an assassin. But he knew people who would be willing to do things like that, and had taken advantage of their offers. Not that he'd tell Horace or Duncan that. Because that would be ' _illegal_ ', apparently.

Back in the square where he had met Horace, he reined in Tug, taking a quick glance around. He didn't want to call to see if there was anyone still there, in case the Scotti heard, but he had a nagging suspicion that someone might still be there, left behind on accident. That was why he had asked Horace to watch the orphans, and help Mae, but he knew how hard it was keeping track of a large group of kids.

Will waited until Tug calmed, and everything went silent. He could hear Scotti trampling through the forest behind him, the wind gusting freezing air from the north, and . . . a sob.

He wheeled Tug around, urging him towards Mae's small house that she used as an orphanage. With all of the Scotti raids, before the war, there had been a decent amount of orphans, and it angered him that the Baron thought to do nothing. The man didn't see why it was his problem, and therefore didn't move to prevent or help it.

Quickly dismounting, Will shoved the door open, and walked into the main room. To either side were separate rooms with bunks to separate the girls from the boys, with a dinner table separating the room in the center. Underneath the table, Will could just see a small body, curled up in a ball, and rocking back and forth.

Gently, Will got down on his knees, looking underneath. The boy shrunk back, but immediately burst into tears when he saw who it was. Reaching out, the Ranger wrapped an arm underneath the kid's arms, drawing him out from underneath. "C'mon, kid, I'll take you back to the others," he murmured, clutching the kid to his chest.

The boy grabbed onto Will's shirt, clinging to it as he was rushed out of the house, and onto Tug. "Sit in front of me, Danny," Will coaxed, suddenly remembering the kid's name from when Mae would call him back inside. Keeping one arm around him, Will wheeled Tug back around, and let Tug go.

Together, they raced through the rest of the town, leaving the trailing Scotti in the dust. Tug slowed momentarily going up the hill, but quickly regained speed, throwing up muddy snow. At the top, the castle came into view, and the Ranger sighed with relief at seeing the gates still standing open, with lines of men standing before the fortress. Instead of drawing attention to himself by galloping through the ranks straight to the command party he could see at the back, Will turned Tug's head towards the side. Slowing the horse to a trot, Will glanced down on Danny's head, concerned on how the boy was doing.

"You okay there, bud?" Will asked, lifting his arm from around the boy to ruffle his hair.

The kid looked up, looking warily at Will. Numbly, it seemed, he nodded, before tugging the corner of Will's cloak around him, leaning up against the Ranger. Will shrugged, and took the reins in both hands. A few men turned at the sight of him, but most didn't know what he had been doing, or why he was even there. They paid him and Danny no mind.

Soon enough, he made it all the way around, and came up on the group at their side. Surprising him, Duncan, Halt, and Crowley were there, along with a few other Barons and Battlemasters, and the few people who had already been there. Horace sat next to Duncan, speaking quietly to him, while Gilan slouched on Blaze next to Halt. Doric and Cormac sat behind them.

Will rode by most everyone, stopping only when someone started in surprise, and asked why he had a kid with him. Will paused, unsure what to do with Danny, but knowing that he probably shouldn't stay out where they were at. Shrugging, Will picked Danny up, and plopped the kid on the Baron's saddle, and asked him to take him behind the walls. He ruffled the kid's hair once more, before he continued towards the front.

The Baron, stunned, compiled before he realized what he was doing.

Squeezing in between Horace and Halt, Will sat with them in silence, watching downhill, and over the heads of Araluen defenders.

It was a full minute before, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Halt's head turn towards him. "Will," he heard his mentor say softly. The one word, however, called the attention of Duncan, Horace, and the other two Rangers. Halt continued, just as softly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "do you have anything to tell us?"

Will tilted his head, and frowned, but didn't turn to face the older Ranger. "Aahhh," Will squinted his eyes, still looking towards the foliage, "hmm, no. Not really. Just . . . do me a favor, and watch over those trees right there," he said, motioning with his finger in a general area away from the village.

As everyone turned that way, Will studied those who were there, looking around him. Smirking, he turned back to view what he knew would be coming.

* * *

_Behind the Scotti lines, chaos was in control. Flames had sprouted up from nearly nowhere, which probably wasn't the best thing for people who rubbed themselves with oil to help withstand the cold. Not to mention their thick tartans were fairly flammable by themselves, but they were also rubbed against the Scotti's oily bodies, making them all the more flammable._

_It also didn't help that some were randomly falling over, without them even being near the fires. Some would see something small and silver in their throats, but would see no more after the victim fell over._

_It was almost as if they were being attacked by ghosts . . ._

* * *

Everyone could see the smoke build up, getting darker and darker as it went on.

Horace's mouth gaped open, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Halt kept his eyes on Will, though, and noticed the smirk he still wore. Slowly, Gilan turned, and studied Will, taking in the smirk and Halt's suspicious glare. Lastly, Crowley, on the other side of Duncan, leaned forward, staring at Will.

Without turning, Horace had reached out, and gripped Will's sleeve, anchoring him there. The Ranger snickered, and gave Horace a sort of pat on the arm, as if his attempt to keep him there amused him.

Practically seething, Horace growled, "What the hell did you do, Will?"

That brought every else's attention back on him. He pretended not to notice, however, and smiled at Horace, although there was a different look in his eyes, "Me? I did nothing, Horace. But whoever is out there obviously did _something,"_ Will turned to Duncan, the not-smile still on his face. "Did Horace tell you about the second mixed force, and the vanguard?"

The King nodded, narrowing his eyes. Obviously, he didn't exactly trust Will at the moment either.

Will shrugged, and said, "Well, that was them. Most of them, hopefully."

"And, who," Duncan started icily, "if I may ask, did that?"

"Oh, I don't know actually. I only knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone who could delay them. I didn't know they would set them on fucking fire," his mouth slipped, and Will quickly shut it.

Horace's grip on his sleeve suddenly tightened, nearly dragging him from the saddle.

"Horace, what the h-" Will snapped, but stopped abruptly, surprised by the look in the knight's eyes.

"Why's there blood on your shirt?" He asked calmly. The look in his eyes suggested that Will wouldn't be able to get out of this one, but he had to try anyway.

Smiling, Will twisted his arm, attempting to get it out of Horace's death grip. "A Scotti may have noticed my presence. It's not _my_ blood, if that helps," the lie was easy, but obviously so was spotting it.

For a moment, Horace's eyes flicked up, and over Will's shoulder. When they came back to him, however, Horace's grip just tightened.

The strain was too much, "Horace," Will hissed, "let me get up, or you'll just make it worse."

Releasing Will, the knight smiled, and reached past him for Tug's reins. "I'm taking him to Malcolm," Horace told Duncan.

"I wouldn't bother with that, Horace," Doric called from behind, "He's as stubborn as an ass, you know that."

Will turned in his seat, facing Doric. "And you're as stupid as an ass, Doric."

Horace pulled Tug's reins, moving Will away before either of them could say anything more.

* * *

Alyss didn't believe that it was good that Will leaned so heavily on the wall. He tried to put a strong face on, but both she and Malcolm could see through it. Will, however, denied anything being wrong, and continued to walk with them. He acted as if nothing was wrong, and continued to worsen as they walked further. But Malcolm voiced no protest, the only sign that he noticed being his occasional glances as the newly returned Ranger. The healer knew his actual condition, having looked at the reopened wound before, but Will had refused to say how it happened, and that ended Iit.

The trio paused at one of the arrow slits, looking out on the field before them. Malcolm stood grimly in front of it, while Will stood casually to the side, glancing out every now and then. Alyss had her back turned, away from the blood and screams, facing towards the castle.

The battle had begun.

As they watched, a member of a small party that sat on the hill before them moved forward. The rider leaned forward as if to speak to another, but instead the large black battle horse began to canter forward. From their distance, the insignia on the shield was too small to make out, but Will would recognize that horse from anywhere.

Abruptly, he turned on his heels, surprising both Alyss and Malcolm.

"Will, where're you going?" The healer called after him, concerned that it might be the wound bothering him. He shouldn't have let him go to follow the Scotti.

The Ranger didn't respond, and he disappeared around the corner with little more than the _snap_ of his cloak in the wind.

* * *

The battle was _not_ going well for the Araluens.

After watching most of the men be slaughtered by the Scotti, Duncan had called for a retreat within the walls of Norgate. The gates and portcullis weren't closed fast enough, and the Scotti were running rampant inside the courtyard and the barracks. Some doors were closed, sealing off certain sections of the castle, such as where the sick, young, and elderly, those unable to fight, were holed up. Other parts were a mix of both, where the chaos and control met head on.

Horace was in the middle of once such mixes.

An ax slammed into his shield, rocking him back, but not stunning him. Something else hit his shield, with more force than the second, causing Horace to assume that he was dealing with a dual wielder. Meaning two axes.

Instead of doing as he planned, which had been to lower his shield and swing where the attacker couldn't defend with two blades, someone grabbed hold of his collar. They jerked him back, and wasted no time getting him out of the fight. Horace went limp, letting what happened, happen.

When they were clear of the skirmish, Horace's collar was dropped, and he stumbled to his own feet. "You need a break, sir," said a solder, who wore Araluen colors. One of Duncan's men, then. Silently, Horace nodded his acknowledgment, and leaned against the wall, watching the soldier wade back into the battle.

"Horace?"

He turned, relieved to see Alyss. She wore trousers, instead of her standard white Courier dress, which would have been destroyed in these conditions. She also wore pieces of leather armor, a chest piece over a woolen shirt, spaulders to cover her shoulders, and cuisse for her legs. It was minimal, but she wasn't going into the thick of the battle like Horace, so it was enough. At her side, as well, was her saber.

"Alyss, how are you doing?" Horace sighed, an exhausted smile on his lips. He noted how her eyes never left his. He was probably covered in blood.

She pursed her lips, glancing over his shoulder to where they were just barely holding back the Scotti. "Okay, I guess. Duncan wanted me to tell you—"

"Alyss? Horace?" Someone called from down the hall. Gilan rounded a corner, his bow in hand, but his quiver empty. Upon landing eyes on the pair, Gilan jogged the rest of the way to them. Battlemaster Doric appeared around the corner seconds later, and jogged to catch up.

Seeing the bow in pair with the double sheath at Gilan's side made Horace pause. _Will._ He hadn't seen him since leaving him with Malcolm.

Before the Ranger could say anything, Horace quickly turned back to Alyss. "Where's Will?"

Surprise flickered in the Courier's eyes, "He was with Malcolm and me before the Scotti got inside the walls, but when you went out, he left. I haven't seen him since."

Horace cursed, clenching his jaw in frustration. _He's never around when needed, and always annoyingly around when not!_

Gilan broke in before anything more about Will could be said, "Duncan needs you."

"In the reception hall," Alyss added, remembering why she had been there in the first place.

Sighing, Horace sheathed his sword, resigned to leaving the battle that was behind him. "Doric, take over here."

The Battlemaster nodded silently, and walked past them, bringing his war ax up at his side, leveling it.

* * *

Will, as it were, was in the kitchens.

Unfortunately, this time around, he wasn't snatching any fresh pie snacks, and simple castle guards and Chubb's wooden ladle weren't what he had to fear. Instead, he had simply just wanted a quiet place to rest, and had stumbled upon a large group of Scotti and the mysterious soldiers.

As he had walked in, the last of a group of Norgate soldiers were cut down, taking a sword in the chest from someone wearing Norgate colors. Will froze, having intended on leaving, but now knowing that he couldn't.

The man left before light was thrown on his face, going around a corner, and leaving the Scotti to kick the fallen defenders.

"Back to me!" A voice called from the end of the room. Will figured that the man who had called was the same Norgate man he had seen. The few Scotti that were nearby the entrance in which Will stood quickly turned, and jogged deeper into the kitchens. Breathing heavily, Will slipped forward, keeping his back to the wall, and his eyes at the corner where anyone could appear at any time. As he had been through the halls of the castle, Will had seen non-Scotti fighters attacking Araluen men, the people from the second force. They wore no colors he knew, but there was a sigil on their clothes. He needed a better look, however.

Slinking forward, Will paused at the corner, where he could hear muffled voices coming from further down. The fire guttered, throwing unpredictable shadows against the wall.

"You heard me," someone snarled, "now get going!"

Jogging steps came back towards his hiding spot, so Will shrank against the wall, hoping the throbbing shadows thrown by the fire, the darkness, and the fact that he was next to a deep cabinet, would hide him. _Trust the cloak, right?_ He through wryly, thinking of the few times when that statement _hadn't_ helped.

At least fifteen Scotti turned the corner, a hair's breadth from Will's face as he crouched against the wall. After they passed, a few other people ran by, wearing those mysterious sigils on their chests, and Araluen blood on their blades. Not being able to see their faces, he couldn't see what nationality they were.

After everyone was gone, Will took another deep breath, and glanced around the corner.

Far at the end of the area, there was a large fireplace, fit with a small rack to hang meats, and another rack to hold the iron fire tools. Thick wooden tables along the opposite walls, and two doorways leading even deeper into the labyrinth that was the kitchens.

Maybe it was just the darkness, and the added flare of the two large fires on either side of them, but Morgan's hair seemed all the more flame-like in that moment.

Will didn't know if he was surprised or not. He stood, and stepped into the center of the wide hall, eyes focused on the knight. Morgan, it seemed, was focused on the fire. Will had placed the voice that he had heard yelling before – while he had been unconscious in Grimsdell wood, Morgan would sometimes yell across camp, looking for volunteers for random, small jobs. The voices were the same.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, slouching a bit more, and began striding towards the knight. He didn't have any plan, he wasn't exactly in the best condition, and as far as he knew, Morgan was actually fairly skilled with his blade. Will continued walking.

Sneering, Will said, "No wonder a high-end knight like yourself was sent Macindaw. You're not the most loyal, now are you?"

Morgan glanced up and away from the fire, his eyes landing on the Ranger. "Macindaw is an important outpost, Ranger Will. You know that. They wouldn't send someone likely to start an invasion there."

"But you didn't start this invasion, I'm not _that_ stupid," Will smiled, and stopped walking just a meter from where Morgan stood. The fire blazed, and even from here, he could feel the heat role over him. "But you weren't given a command position, you were just supposed to hang around Macindaw. Sure, I was never told why you were there, but it wasn't that hard to figure out."

Scowling, Morgan turned to face him completely, a hand landing on the sword at his side. Unlike Horace, Will knew, Morgan didn't use a shield that often. He fought with a more 'hand's on' style. "What're you accusing me of, Treaty?"

Will shrugged, "Well, you were already accused of something, but I don't know everything, and I can't answer that. At the moment, however, it did seem mighty suspicious of you to be ordering around those Scotti. Not to mention—"

The only warning Will got of the swinging blade was the sudden ringing of steel against steel as it was unsheathed. Not having enough time to bring out any weapons to parry, Will jumped back, the blade narrowly missing his throat by centimeters. As he regained footing, both saxe and throwing knives appeared in his hands. Half in a crouch, he waited.

Morgan glared at him, bringing his sword back up.

As he swung again, Will brought the knives into an X, falling into reliable methods he'd used for years. Morgan's sword slammed into them, the strength behind the blow throwing Will off balance once more. The Ranger stumbled back, but as the knight moved to step forward, Will used the momentum, and anchored himself with his right foot as his left came back forward. Slashing out with the throwing knife, his sudden change in direction and Morgan's movement forward should have ended it there.

Morgan was faster than expected, though. He slipped to the side, letting the point of his blade touch the ground as his fist came all the way around . . . and collided with Will's head.

Will slammed to the ground, his head cracking against the stone, but Morgan's sword flashed back up, slicing across Will's ribs as he fell.

Everything blacked out for a few moments after he hit the ground, but the next thing Will knew was that someone was turning him over. _Someone found my unconscious body, great. Maybe they'll think I'm dead, even better—_

His eyes flicked open, and he realized then that not long had passed. Maybe only a few seconds. Morgan had a knee on Will's chest, putting nearly his full weight on him. _That probably won't do my injury good,_ Will thought. _Well, actually, getting cut in the ribs and hit in the head probably wasn't the best either._

There was a skittering near his head, and, groggily, Will turned his head to see what it was. Morgan had pushed his dropped throwing knife into the fireplace, which was uncomfortably close to his face. He could feel the fire cooking his skin. Slowly, Will turned his head back up to face Morgan, and that's where he found his saxe.

Morgan leaned forward, shoving the sharp blade closer to Will's throat. "You're always so cocky, Treaty. Did you really think you could come down here, witness what you did, brag about it, and survive?"

"Maybe I didn't intend to survive," Will smiled, ignoring the sticky blood he could feel around his head. That probably wasn't too good.

Surprised at the morality of his statement, Morgan frowned and leaned back. A hesitation, if you will.

Will slid the one blade from inside his arm into his hand, and twisted underneath Morgan, throwing him off balance. He slammed the stiletto underneath the knight's ribs, and into his heart. The hit threw the man's body into the fireplace, his head cracking against the low mantel.

The Ranger stumbled to his feet, head throbbing, staring down at Morgan's body.

_I guess I can't deny that he sure has a fiery head, now can't I?_

* * *

Dropping his sword for a moment, Horace bent over and took a deep breath. Of all the fights he's been in, this was probably the most strenuous. If he failed here, it was possible the Scotti would overrun the rest of the kingdom. He didn't know whether Will was alive or not, and others he cared for were not in his line of sight either. He had no clue where Alyss was, and last he saw Gilan, there was blood covering the front of his shirt, and he no longer wore his cloak.

At the moment, he was alone. A Scotti had fallen to his blade, and that had left the room clear. And, as far as he could tell, he was in a small antechamber, probably used when people were waiting to see the Baron. All he knew was that it was near the reception hall. He could hear fighting off deeper into the castle, but at the moment couldn't bring himself to straighten back up. He needed to rest.

A foot shuffled behind him, and in that moment, Horace found that he at least had the strength to go down with a fight.

Spinning, he brought his sword and shield up, and faced three Scotti that had somehow came in behind him without a sound. One had red painting, the other two had a greenish-brown paint slashed across their face. They all used broadswords, and didn't have a single cut on them.

 _They're fresh . . . are more coming?_ Horace swallowed, and suddenly realized that Norgate wouldn't hold if there were more. He would fail. Everyone would die.

A Scotti, one with green paint, charged forward, swinging his broadsword above his head, with the other two just behind him.

Seconds before the lead hit, something slammed into his throat, throwing him to the side with a strangled cry. Going along with it, Horace brought his own sword across the red's bare chest, who was unprepared for the fighter in the lead to be brought down with no warning. He went down without a sound, crumpling at the feet off the other. Who got Horace's sword to the throat as it finished it's swing.

The remaining Scotti stopped, the point millimeters from his throat.

"Yield," Horace leaned forward partially, pricking the man's throat with the blade.

The Scotti nodded vigorously, leaning back away from the point. He bent partially to place his blade on the stone ground, keeping his eyes locked with Horace's.

There was a click, as the steel met the stone, and a sudden _scrape_ as the fighter swung it up, singled handed, towards Horace's exposed side beneath his shield.

It should've taken Horace in the upper thigh. He moved to lower his shield, but knew he wouldn't be fast enough.

Instead, another arrow slammed into the Scotti's side, throwing him to the side even as a second came from behind Horace. The second took the Scotti fighter in the face, straight through his left eye, and out the back.

Horace stumbled back, stunned by the macabre scene he just witnessed.

"If it makes you feel better, I was aiming for his throat like the other," came a familiar voice from behind him.

It was Will, thankfully. Horace spun, relieved to hear his friend's voice. Relief quickly died to worry when he saw the condition he was in. The front of his shirt was cut, and blood covered the area that should've been covered with bandages. He couldn't tell whether the previous wound had reopened, or if he'd been hit there all over again, but either one wouldn't be good. There was a smaller cut near his throat, which had also cut into the shirt at the collar, revealing more blood at his collar bone. Blood covered the side of his head, drenching him in blood, and his face was whiter than the snow outside the walls. Unlike Gilan, Will still wore his cloak, and it was in fairly good condition compared to his shirt, but that was covered in blood along with the rest of him.

Other than the blood that covered him, the only thing that was off was the look of extreme _annoyance._

Horace sighed, and dropped his sword and shield to his side. "Will," he breathed, that one syllable saying everything between the two brothers. _You're alive. You're okay. We'll be okay._

A wry smile touched the Ranger's lips, before he turned to check the hallway behind him.

"They should be leaving soon," he murmured.

That made Horace frown, suddenly suspicious of him. "What d'ya mean with that? Why should they just _leave?"_

Will shrugged, keeping his gaze focused down the hall. "Just trust me on this one, Horace."

Something in his voice set off alarm bells in the knight's mind. "Will, are you okay?"

The Ranger stood there, facing away from him for a moment. He was bent over slightly, and it was only then that Horace realized that Will had dropped his bow after shooting the last Scotti. "Will?" Horace persisted, stepping forward to place a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Suddenly, Will lurched backwards, as if to get out of his reach. "I'm fine," he snapped, making his way down the hall, away from Horace. Knowing him to be unarmed, Horace snatched Will's bow off the ground after sheathing his own blade, and moved to follow behind him.

"Will," Horace called, jogging to catch up. The grey and white cloak was fairly easy to discern from the splatters of blood on the dark grey stone. That's when Will stopped walking.

And,

Ever so slowly,

Will Treaty dropped to the ground.

No longer able to support his own weight.

" _WILL!"_

* * *

_Outside of Norgate's walls, the ground wasn't covered in snow or even grass, but the bodies of the fallen. The fighting outside the walls had been brief, but that didn't mean it was any less worse than what had happened within. Even a few days after, there were still plenty of bodies to be carted off to a grave._

_Alone, a man stood amid the wreckage of it all. He wasn't wearing the colors of either side, and if a stranger had seen him, would have assumed him to have been a villager, or just a wandering soul who happened upon the scene. His head was ducked, and the man seemed to be staring down at a pair of bodies that had yet to be picked up. A Scotti and an Araluen, one of the original survivors of the Macindaw fight. Shifting his footing, it almost seemed as if he didn't notice what he was standing in: a mixture of blood and snow, where too much blood had soaked in, and made it a dark pink slush._

_Meters away, a shadow broke itself from the wall, and made it's way towards where the man stood. The grey and white cloak swirled behind the shadow as they picked their way through the bodies, unwilling to step on a single one. Eventually, he stood beside the man, and looked down on the two dead fighters._

_The silence stretched between the two of them for minutes on end, before the shadow spoke: "You tried to complete what Keren never could."_

_Still refusing to look up from the bodies, the other man replied, "What argument can you have against a son trying to fulfill his father's wishes?"_

_The cloaked man clenched his fists, and when he spoke, it was with barely restrained rage that he spoke what he knew to be the truth: "Keren hadn't wanted_ this. _Nor what he did back at Macindaw, he regretted it. Don't twist a man's words when he's not around to defend them."_

_That's when the man began to laugh. It was loud, void of any humor or any emotion at all. Mocking._

_Laughing among that carnage, surrounded by bodies of the dead. Of innocent, and guilty. Will didn't_ care _about Percy's opinions, but the fact that he caused what was around them and thought nothing of it was the last straw. And even though it would technically be murder, the Ranger considered pulling his saxe then and there and ending the bastard. But Morgan had taken it, and Will had neglected to take it from the dead man's grasp. Even the blade that had been in his boot had been lost when he was attacked by the Scotti outside the village._

_"Continue laughing here among the fallen and you'll soon be one," he snarled, snatching his hand up to grip Percy's collar. Twisting it, he dragged the man's face down, pushing him off balance._

_Percy stopped laughing the moment Will twisted, but the grin the showed on his face was no less irritating. "So, how're you going to threaten me today, Treaty? How're you going to-"_

_This time, Will twisted the collar enough to press against his throat, and all of a sudden the man couldn't breathe. His eyes widened in shock, and his precarious balance shifted. Shuffling his feet, the slush splashed up, and painted parts of Will's cloak and clothes pink. It blended in, however, to the splatters of blood that already covered him._

_Will leaned in closer, so their noses were nearly touching. "One last time," he whispered, a sad, exhausted look in his eyes, overtoning the anger that burned within, "Leave." The Ranger pushed the former Courier back, hard enough to send the man sprawling. He landed on top of a few bodies, giving him a soft, but horrifying, landing. "Before I decide not to give you another chance."_

_Anger flared in the man's eyes, but he made no move to get up, with wavering defiance in his eyes._

_It was pitiful, however. Sneering, Will turned abruptly, cloak snapping in the wind, and made his way back towards to the castle. He had a job to do, and he'd be damned if Percy of all people kept him from it._


	3. The Rogue Ranger

_Alyss—_

_I realize that you probably don't want to hear from me, especially after what happened in Norgate last winter. I—I know Will probably told you my part in it. I just hope you will give me a moment to explain, to explain everything, from the beginning._

_I never wanted to hurt you._

_Believe me, I never did. I had to get the information, and the only option these people were giving me were the ones that I used—you. With your position and relationship with the royals, your friendship with so many higher ups, they figured you would be the easiest to exploit. So they sent me, against my will, to . . . use you. I never wanted to listen to them, but these people are . . . very good at what they do. Blackmail. Treason._

_When I first set eyes on you, I knew that this would be horrible. Why would anyone do this to someone like you? I hated myself, every time my hand touched you in a way that would hurt you. It—it was wrong. It was unfair. I just wish for you to forgive me, to understand that I was forced to do it._

_To give me another chance._

_I still love you, Alyss. I can only wish that you still love me._

_Please, can we please meet in private? I wish to explain this to you in person, so you realize how much this means to me. I hated hurting you, and as much as Will gets on my nerves, I'm glad he intervened and put that to a stop. But he doesn't control you. We need to talk._

_-Percy Lyon_

Alyss stood up abruptly from her chair, making it skitter back and slam into the wall. Her jaw was clenched, and her other hand, the one that didn't hold the letter, was turning white from the force she put into the fist. Looking at the letter, for that moment, she couldn't discern her emotions. Was she angry? Sad? Frustrated?

She paused, looking at her ex-husband's signature.

Without a second look, Alyss crunched the letter in her hand, and dropped it to the ground. She didn't look down when she walked over it, nor did she glance to it when she started composing a few different letters.

* * *

Crowley settled back into the bench, and looked over to his companion. Horace was still partially recovering from the multiple injuries he had incurred during the battle to defend Norgate. Most of his wounds were healed, expect for a few scars and uncomfortable areas of thin and stiff healed skin. Earlier, Horace had asked to see Crowley for lunch, but hadn't said what he wished to talk about.

The commandant was sure that Horace wished to talk about Will.

After sitting down, the two sat in silence for a moment, Crowley waiting for the younger man to speak. They sat at a picnic table, in the open field area in front of Castle Araluen. One of the small trees gave them a decent amount of shade, but it was nothing big enough to conceal anyone.

Horace sipped from a coffee mug, which he must have brought out here himself. The bitter smell hit Crowley's nostrils, reminding the commandant of how early he had woken up, and how he hadn't had time to brew coffee at all that morning due to the early arrival of his number one enemy—paperwork.

"What did Will say about the reassignment?"

_I knew it._ Crowley winced, and glanced over to the knight. Horace was looking away from him, watching a few of the nearby village children play tag. "He, ahh . . ." The Commandant put a hand on the back of his neck, and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. Crowley studied the large expanse of the castle to their other side. "He refused."

A loud sigh sounded from beside him. "Why the hell would he refuse?" The frustration in Horace's voice told Crowley that this news hurt him physically.

Crowley let his hand slid from his neck, and clasped his hands between his knees. "He said that he wanted to stay on at Norgate for at least another year or two."

"Why? Why would he need to stay? The Scotti are gone," Horace said angrily, "Everything's back to what it was! Why would he need to stay?"

Shrugging, the Ranger Commandant slid a hand through his dusty red hair, sighing once more. Who knew Will would be so difficult?

_Well,_ Crowley considered, _he_ was _Halt's apprentice._

"He said that he wanted to make sure nothing else would crop up after that invasion." He turned to face the knight, who was staring blankly ahead. There was exhaustion in his eyes, and Crowley couldn't help but notice that he was rubbing his arm. From prior knowledge, Crowley knew that there had once been a cut in that arm, now healed, which had gone through his flesh and bit down into the bone. It had become a nervous habit for Horace, especially with things concerning Will. He would start rubbing the scar until it grew numb and red, and unless someone pointed it out, he wouldn't notice. The healer got angry when he saw him doing it, because at the time that the habit started, it was still healing. That was mainly why the scar was so visible.

Knowing that the young man wouldn't stop, Crowley reached out, and put a hand on Horace's. Without a word, Horace dropped his hand.

Horace was silent. Together, they watched the children run around and scream, falling and stumbling as the little girl who was currently 'it' chased after another boy. Sometimes it baffled Crowley, seeing life in its purest forms. In his line of work, it wasn't something he got to see often. Usually he just ended rotten lives, lives spoiled by vile acts.

"Where will he go, when he does finally consent to a reassignment?" Together, Crowley and Will had come to an agreement—Crowley wouldn't reassign Will without his approval. It was just between them, but when Will started refusing to leave Norgate, eventually Horace and Halt found out—as well as Alyss.

"That's actually already been figured out, and proposed to him," Crowley explained, "Gilan wants his own fief again. He said he liked doing the Task Force, and being with Halt, but that it wasn't for him. He's always following Halt's lead, because he doesn't have that much experience in foreign diplomacy and problems. So he requested to be moved from Redmont back into his own fief, and out of the Task Force. Since I'm waiting for Will, as he's agreed to rejoin society and go into the Task Force, Gilan and I are waiting for him to finish up in Norgate."

Horace scoffed, and a sad smile spread across his face. "He's agreed to the Task Force then? He'll go back to Redmont?"

Crowley nodded. "That's one of the few things Will's made easy for me. I know where he's going. I just don't know when."

The knight nodded agreement, and looked into the sky. It was a clear day, and the blue sky looked down on them without a cloud in sight. Something must've occurred to him then, because his eyes widened, his hand started to head for the fold of his jacket. He had started to pull out a piece of paper, when a guard approached from Crowley's side.

"Ranger Crowley?" she asked, stepping forward. Horace's hand slid from the paper, and he too looked at the guard.

"Yes, Taryn?" Crowley said, proud that he remembered her name. He wasn't the best with names, and with so many guards around, it was hard to remember all of them. He didn't know how Cassandra did it, and Horace and Duncan. Although, it did somewhat come with the job, for Cassandra and Duncan. They would have to remember names of other royal families from different countries, and their advisors and guards names to be polite. And that wouldn't include everyone in their own country. Crowley had a hard time remembering the 50 plus Ranger's names, in addition to all of the apprentices and Barons and Battlemasters.

The guard, Taryn, smiled at the mention of her name, and bowed. She nodded respectively to Sir Horace, but turned back to Crowley. "A messenger came in from Norgate looking for you. He says its important."

Crowley frowned, and looked around Taryn to see a young man standing nervously behind her, wringing a hat in his hands. He waved to the man for him to come forward, and then smiled at Taryn. "Thank you, Taryn."

She nodded, and turned around. She stopped at the hesitating messenger, putting a hand on his shoulder and saying something to him. Horace smiled when he saw that she was at least a foot taller than him, and bulkier in her armor. It reminded Horace of his and Will's relationship.

Or, at least, how it once was.

The man stepped up, and smiled nervously. His eyes flicked between the Ranger and the knight, and he gulped, noticing the weapons on both of them. Horace casually moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword, and smiled reassuringly at the man.

"Yes?" Crowley said, smiling wolfishly like he'd seen Halt do, reveling in the man's terror.

Horace dug his elbow into Crowley's side, making no effort to hide it from the messenger.

"I—uh, Ranger, I come from Norgate," he stuttered. Horace nodded, still smiling, even has he dug his elbow deeper into the commandant's side as he laughed at the discomfort of the boy and Horace's attempt to make him stop. "Uh, well, you see, sir, Ranger, uhm . . . our Baron, Cormac, you see, he's wondering . . . when the replacement Ranger will be coming."

Crowley choked, his laughter dying in that one second. Horace froze, his eyes fixing onto the messenger. At once, both Ranger and knight said: " _What?"_

The man flinched, dropped his hat, and scrambled on the ground to get it. He stood up quickly, gripping the hat in his hands.

"What did you just say?" Crowley stood, and the messenger stepped back, uneasiness in his eyes. "What do you mean _replacement Ranger?"_

Gulping, the messenger looked between Crowley and Horace again, but not looking them directly in the eyes. Horace's eyes were wide with confusion and suspicion, while Crowley's were _angry._ He knew what the boy was going to say. He knew it, and he was still in disbelief.

"I—well, you see, Ranger . . . Ranger Will, he—he said that he was reassigned . . . and that a replacement Ranger would arrive within the next few weeks. Except—"

"Except no replacement Ranger ever came." Horace finished quietly, covering his face with his hands.

The messenger gulped once more, his eyes flicking over to Horace. He nodded, saying nothing more.

Crowley was still angry. "A _replacement Ranger?_ Will _said_ he was reassigned? That bastard was supposed to stay another year or two, wHAT THE HELL WAS HE THINKING!"

"Crowley," Horace said quietly.

Before Horace could say anymore, Crowley turned on the messenger. "Where did he go?" he snapped.

The young man flinched, and looked to Horace as he stood as well. "I—I don't—I don't . . . He never said."

"WHY THAT—"

"Thank you," Horace said, putting a hand on the messenger's shoulder, and directed him away from the fuming Ranger. "Don't mind him, he's . . . been having some troubles. And you know how redheads can be—anger issues and all. Go find Taryn, tell her I want you to get some food and rest, okay?" The messenger nodded, and took one last glance at Crowley, before scrambling away from them and running back to the castle.

Horace turned, and watched Crowley for a moment as he kicked the tree in frustration. "Crowley," Horace said, trying to get his attention. The knight looked around, and saw that the village kids had stopped their game of tag to stare at them. As Crowley continue to shout expletives, Horace sighed, and walked towards him.

Grabbing his arm, Horace spun him around. "Crowley, will you shut the hell up?" he whispered fiercely, shaking the older man.

"How _dare_ he? What the hell was he thinking?" Crowley whispered back, matching Horace's tone and volume.

"Can you at least complain about Will's idiocy in private? Where little kids can't hear you curse?" Horace snapped, leaning in closer to the commandant's face.

Crowley's eyes widened. Not in anger, but in surprise. Not many people would talk to a Ranger like that, let alone the Ranger Commandant. Apparently, being around Will, Horace had lost his fear of Rangers. Any of them.

Just that distinction made Crowley pause.

_How could a few years in a fief change one person so much? Will used to be charming and happy and companionable. Now he shuns even his old friends, and doesn't listen to anyone unless he agrees with it._

"Do you know anything about this?" Crowley whispered, changing from angry and loud to serious and quiet in the blink of an eye. It took a moment for Horace to realize what he was being asked.

First he just shrugged, a look of confusion and despair on his face. But then he seemed to recall something, and started to reach for his pocket in his jacket once more. He hesitated, and before drawing out the paper, looked to Crowley. "It may be Percy," he said simply.

At first Crowley didn't remember who 'Percy' was. But then everything came flooding back. The leak at Redmont, the revelation that Alyss' husband had been using her, Will's involvement, his anger, and Percy's eventual resurfacing in Norgate after they had won. "Oh."

Horace winced, and finally pulled the paper from inside his jacket. It turned out to be a letter. Instead of reading it aloud, Horace just showed it to Crowley, and summarized what it was saying. "Apparently Percy's shown up back in Redmont, and he's harassing Alyss. Halt's looked around himself, but can't find him anywhere. She sent a letter to me, just as a little update, I guess."

Frowning, Crowley reached for the letter, and the knight handed it over. After examining it for a moment, Crowley looked back up to Horace. "What does this have to do with," his voice grew strained, and Horace saw that he was barely containing another flash of anger. "What does this have to do with Will leaving Norgate?"

Hesitating, Horace shoved his hands in his pockets. He seemed to consider his words, glancing behind them to see that the kids had resumed their game. "Well," he started, "if she sent a similar letter to Will—"

"Why would he abandon his fief, though? Yes, one of his friends is being harassed, but—"

Horace raised a hand, stopping Crowley before he could get going again. "No, you don't understand. Will has a _huge_ grudge on him. _Will_ found out what Percy was doing, _Will_ attacked him, _Will_ drove him out of the fief, with a threat on his life. _Will_ defended Alyss when he realized what was happening, _Will_ said he would come after Percy if he went near Alyss ever again."

"Okay, I know most of that," Crowley said, frowning deeper, "But abandoning his fief? By saying he was reassigned? He could have just said he had business down south—"

"Crowley." The commandant looked up to Horace, and stopped, knowing what he was going to say. "If Will heard that Percy was bothering Alyss; if Alyss sent him a letter similar to mine, he would have been more than just _angry._ He would go after Percy until he caught him, and he would not rest. Not until she was safe."

Sighing, Crowley stepped over to the bench, and flopped back down onto it. Horace didn't bother to sit, but instead stood in front of him, waiting for a decision.

Covering his face with his hands, Crowley leaned forwards. Horace was right. That was probably the only reason that would explain Will leaving Norgate when he had been so adamant in staying beforehand. He let his hands slide from his face, and looked back up to where Horace was waiting for him.

"What's the probability, do you think, that I'll have to be dealing with a murder very soon?"

* * *

_As usual, when Will walked into the antechamber of Baron Cormac of Norgate, the secretary didn't have time to register his presence before the Ranger walked right past him, and barged into the office._

" _Hey, you can't—" the middle-aged man tried to say, but the door was slammed shut before he could finish. "Damn Ranger," he muttered, turning back to his work. He was smart enough to not chase after him, but that didn't stop him from saying things behind his back._

_In the office, Cormac flinched at the sudden arrival of his duty Ranger. His secretary had been given strict instructions not to let anyone in, and yet here was someone barging into the damn office like they owned it—_

" _Cormac," Will said in greeting, dispelling all of the man's confusion. Will would be the only person to ignore such instructions. The Ranger's hood was pushed back, revealing a pale face and a light scruff covering the bottom half. The Ranger Gathering had just happened, and Will must've returned coming back fast. Cormac stood quickly, but didn't even try to disguise the annoyance on his face from him._

" _Treaty," the Baron grumbled, "what the hell do you want?"_

_Will quickly waved a letter, but didn't bother to show it to the man. "I just thought I should congratulate you, sir," he said, smiling wolfishly. He put his hands down at his side, but still gripped the letter tightly in his hands._

_Baron Cormac narrowed his eyes, appraising Will. In all the time that he had known this Ranger, only when he was being completely sarcastic and disparaging would he ever call Cormac 'sir'. The Baron frowned, and put his hands behind his back. "Congratulate me? For what?"_

" _You've finally gotten rid of me."_

_Now this was unexpected. "You were reassigned?" the Baron asked suspiciously. He didn't actually get to see the letter, as normally there wouldn't be one. The Ranger would be notified that they were leaving, and given the written commission, but that was it. And the assignment was Ranger eyes only, strictly so._

" _Yes. Much further south than this wasteland. No more numb finger and toes for the winter."_

_Sitting back down, Cormac looked down at the papers he had been studying. He was getting rid of Ranger Will, and that was all he needed to know. "Well, it was nice working with you," he said, completely insincere._

_And Will could here that in his voice. "And you, sir," he said, sneering. Will spun on the spot, and walked out the door. As he left, he lifted the letter in his hand, and folded it carefully, as if treasuring his release notice._

_Except the secretary saw the name at the bottom of the letter as he left. And for some reason, he didn't exactly believe that 'Alyss Mainwaring' was the name of the Ranger Commandant._

* * *

Normally, after having dinner at Jenny's, Alyss would stroll through a few of the shops in Wensley village before finally making her way across the Tarbus River bridge, and back up to the castle.

These last few weeks, however, she's been leaving her friend's earlier and earlier, so not to be caught in the dark alone, and she hadn't been stopping at the shops. Alyss wasn't the type of person to blow off a friend's offer, especially when they made a habit of it every few days a week. Jenny had offered, graciously, for Alyss to stay the night at her own house, and go back in the morning. She had offered just that night, in fact, because the two friend's had gotten distracted, and by the time the courier realized the time, the sun was down, and the moon was already climbing the sky.

Sick with apprehension, but not willing to take a chance of a night without guards, Alyss quickly said goodbye, and went on her way.

She was the only one walking, at that time of the night, and her footsteps seemed so loud she felt like a parade. She winced at each step, but continued on nonetheless. Tightening her cloak around her, covering her chest area, Alyss looked around her. She stared at shadows longer than needed, and checked streets she wouldn't be going down. She used to never have to take precautions like this, but . . .

It sickened her, to say the least. That someone would do this to her. She had told Halt, she had told the Baron. But neither Halt nor the guards the Baron sent out ever found anyone. She'd taken to carrying more than just a dagger on her. Halt had had one of Will's old saxe knives. Apparently, it had broken and he'd been too impatient to wait for it to be fixed, so he just ordered a new one. She now carried that at her side.

Just when she was in sight of the bridge, just when she thought maybe _he_ had decided to listen to her and leave her alone, she heard it. Footsteps, following behind her. They moved at the same pace as her, stopped when she stopped, followed her down whatever detours she took.

He had arrived.

Alyss took a breath, and prepared to unsheathe the large knife at her side. She had stabbed people before, in self-defense. Why would stabbing this man make any difference? It was just another name to add to the list. Except it would be _him._

A hand grabbed her arm, spinning her around. She used the momentum to pull the saxe out of its oiled sheath, as well as to drive her heel into the arch of his foot—

Percy hissed, stumbling back. The saxe slashed across his face, although it was originally aimed for his throat. It cut his chin, splitting his lips and sliding through to his cheekbone like butter.

Blood was everywhere by the time Percy Lyon sat up from where he had fallen across the ground.

"Stay the hell away from me," Alyss snarled, rolling along with her miss. She had intended to kill him, but she went along with him falling, and acted like she was just warning him. "Stay the hell away, or I'll do more than just cut your face, you bastard."

"Alyss," Percy started, attempting to get to his feet. She shoved the saxe towards his throat, making him fall back onto his back. His eyes never left her face, however. "Please, just let me explain. I never—"

" _Leave me alone_ ," she snapped, digging the saxe deeper into his neck. A prick of blood beaded up, and rolled down his throat.

Percy opened his mouth to say more, but his eyes flicked above her head—the first time his eyes had left her face. That's when she knew someone had come upon them. She wasn't alone. Maybe Jenny had gotten worried, and followed after her, or the butcher, which was where she was near, had heard Percy fall and yell out, or their minor scuffle.

But she knew it wasn't the butcher, not when the color drained from Percy's face, not when the fear filled his eyes—not when he said: "I—I can explain, please."

Alyss turned, knowing that it would be safe to take her eyes off her ex-husband. Who she saw, while it didn't shock her after Percy's remark, was still a pleasant surpriseqq, considering he was supposed to be up north working.

As it wasn't winter, Will was dressed in the standard green, grey, and brown Ranger cloak, with matching clothes. In line with his recent habits, he had a light scruff along his jaw, as he normally didn't shave while he was traveling. Too much work, he would say. Instead of having a hidden stiletto up his sleeve, he had it strapped to his arm on the outside. He also wore a shortsword openly on the other side of his belt from his saxe. And if that wasn't bad enough, there was a standard longbow slung on his back, and a second bow, a different make and style compared to either the longbow or recurve, on Tug's saddle. The little horse shook his mane, greeting Alyss.

Will smiled at Percy, but there was no humor in it. He set a hand on Alyss' shoulder, but didn't turn to look at her. He kept his eyes focused on Percy, which just seemed to unnerve him all the more. It reminded Percy of a wolf stalking its prey, leaning in for a merciless kill.

"You know," Will started, speaking to Alyss but still not looking away from her ex-husband, "what you are doing to him is well within your rights. Since he's been invading your personal space by stalking you, you have every right to cut off his nose, just as long as he's alive for a trial." To Alyss, those words didn't sound _exactly_ right, but she appreciated the sentiment. Will continued, either way, "And, during that trial, it's almost assured that he would be recognized as your abusive ex-husband, who may, or may not, have betrayed this kingdom by selling secrets to its enemies. He would go right to the gallows. He would be charged with too many things to just get life-in-prison."

Silently, Alyss smiled, and looked back down on Percy. _That_ sounded right.

Percy stumbled to his feet, Alyss' saxe no longer pressed to his throat. "No—no, I didn't _abuse_ her! I _loved_ her! I never meant—"

"Excuse me?" Alyss exclaimed, stepping forward and raising her saxe. Anger distorted her face, her lip curled by fury, eyebrows arched downwards. Percy slipped back, out of her reach, because at that moment, she looked as if she would murder him. Will had dropped his hand from Alyss' shoulder, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn't look like he would try to stop the murder, either. "You didn't _abuse_ me?" She snarled, stepping closer to him. Percy backed away another step, but came upon the side of the butcher's shop. He was trapped. "Then, I wonder, what the hell you _were_ doing."

Alyss tossed her saxe to the side, letting it thump to the ground. For a moment, Percy thought he had escaped Alyss' fury.

The courier drove her knee upwards, straight into Percy's crotch without a single hesitation. Will smiled, noticing that she didn't hold back, despite the fact that she wore a dress. And despite the fact that he knew how much pain Percy would be in, Will still couldn't find the sympathy in him to even wince.

Straightening her dress, Alyss picked her saxe up off the ground, and walked back to where Will stood.

Will dug in his pocket, and pulled out a swath of cloth. Stepping up to Percy's crumpled form on the ground, he knelt down. Roughly, Will grabbed his hair, forcing him to face him. Will held the piece of cloth before his eyes. "Recognize this?"

Percy was still for a moment, eyes flicking between the cloth and Will's face. His hands were still holding his bruised privates. When his eyes finally cleared from the tears, and he saw the cloth for what it was—the sigil, from the mysterious soldiers that had attacked alongside the Scotti when Norgate was being sieged—he jerked back, attempting to get out of Will's iron grip. "No, no, NO, _NO,"_ was as Percy said, fighting against Will's grip on his hair.

After a moment of Percy's futile struggle, Will shoved him back into the wall, releasing him.

Standing, Will turned to face Alyss, shoving the sigil back into his pocket. "There's two things we can do," he said, holding up two fingers. "We can drag him to Redmont, and charge him on counts of abuse, stalking, and treason."

Alyss smiled at that, looking back to see Percy still curled up on the ground, holding his crotch. Although, now, his face was pressed against the dirt, and he was shaking it. "What's the second? Let him go?" she asked incredulously.

Will scoffed, laughing. "Hell no. I need to figure out who those people were at the siege, and figure out if they're still a danger to Araluen. He's the only clue I have considering I was forced to kill Morgan."

"So . . .?"

"So I take him along for a joy ride," Will smiled, "figure out who he's working for. Do a little traveling. Maybe see some new countries."

Behind them, Percy groaned. He wouldn't move, not when Will was there. Not when he knew what Will could and would do to him.

Frowning, Alyss looked between her ex-husband and her . . . boyfriend? Prospective husband? She shook her head to herself, and looked away from both of them. After everything, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to be in another relationship. There was nothing wrong with being single her entire life, and people would understand after Percy. "What about me?" She murmured, looking in the direction that Redmont would be in.

Will shrugged, studying her face. "That's your choice. I'm not saying you can't come along, and I'm not saying you have to stay here," he said quietly. He gently set a hand on her shoulder, a complete different person from when he had been handling Percy. "Alyss, you realize you don't have to stay here, right? You can leave whenever you want, with someone or alone. It's your life, so don't think you _have_ to do _anything._ "

She smiled, and finally looked back to him. "That's why you're here," she stated, knowing that she was right. "That's why you came back."

When Will smiled, Alyss almost felt as if she were transported back in time. It was the old Will's smile. The Will that had taken weekend vacations from Seacliffe to spend a few days with her. The Will that would find amusement in everything from annoying Halt to confusing Horace. The Will that had been entranced with the beauty of life—and not disgusted by it.

"Well, someone had to come catch this bastard," Will said, turning away, ruining the moment. The look in his eyes told Alyss that he too realized what he had been doing. That the curtain had slipped, the one hiding his old self, and that she had seen it. It wasn't shame in his eyes, but fear.

He turned away, and reached down to grab Percy by his collar, hoisting him up. "Your choice, Alyss. The gallows or adventure."

"Adventure that'll surely kill me," Percy mumbled, his head hanging. Will shook him roughly, and hissed something into his ear.

Alyss paid no mind to that, considering her options. She was smart enough to know that they literally were her only options, and that Will wasn't toying with her, or trying to influence her decision. He had told her the truth as to why he needed Percy, which had been proven by Percy's reaction to the sigil on the cloth. She _was_ curious about who those people were, and what Percy had to do with them. Morgan, whom she had met and liked, had been their only clue, as, curiously, none of the men wearing the sigil were found dead afterwards. That made her curious as to where Will had gotten the swath of cloth from. Also, while not directly, it was technically her responsibility to protect her kingdom. While normally that rule meant 'protect in legal ways', sometimes it could mean 'protect in physical ways'.

But she was also tired of dealing with Percy. She just wanted him gone from her life, for her to continue living without having to deal with him ruining everything for her. It was bad enough when she was actually married to him, but even _after_ —the anger, the siege, the harassment and stalking, constantly trying to apologize for doing _'nothing'_ to her.

He couldn't even recognize that he had done something wrong, using her as he did.

And she would always be furious about that. That he had used her, used her friendliness and politeness to corner her, used her inability to get away from him to keep her closer. It wasn't that getting a divorce was impossible, as they did happen, but never that often. It was nearly unheard of, unless there was a serious problem—like her own.

The only reason she stayed was because she knew that she could deal with him herself.

She just didn't realize that it was okay to ask for help, along the way.

When she looked back to where Will and Percy were, she saw that Will had tied Percy's hands in front of him with the thumb cuffs, and was waiting patiently for her. Alyss grabbed the sides of her cloak, wrapping herself tightly within the warm folds. As she walked towards them, she looked across the river to where she could see Castle Redmont turning from the sunset red to a deep, dark blood red, where the sun was nearly completely gone behind it. Lights dazzled from the windows of the castle, enticing her to deny Will's offer, and to go curl up in her warm bed in the warm castle—alone.

But nothing would be as warm as the few times she and Will had shared a bed, before he left, and before she had made the mistake of acting polite to a transferred courier named Percy Lyon. Before everything.

Alyss walked up to Will, turning away from Redmont. She hooked an arm around his neck, but didn't lean in for a kiss. Instead, she turned him away from Percy, leading Will a few steps away. Her arm slipped from his neck, and her hand rested on his chest. Looking into his eyes, she leaned partially forward, moving her lips to his ear. "If I come, what about Percy?"

Will pulled from her grasp, moving back to look at her in the light of the newly risen moon. "If you come," he whispered, "I will make sure that bastard doesn't bother you, interact with you, whatever. I won't. Just tell me how you want it, and I'll do it."

She smiled, nodding.

* * *

Horace shouldered his pack, and checked Kicker one last time to see if all of his supplies were in the saddle bags. As he ruffled through his camping supplies, he heard footsteps crunching in the grounded hay that was the floor for the stables. Turning, he saw that the royals had decided to grace his appearance along with Crowley, who still looked fairly upset with the recent news of his renegade Ranger.

He bowed his head respectively to Duncan, and smiled at Cassandra. Then he looked at Crowley, noting the frustrated expression still spread across his face.

"You're leaving for Norgate?" Duncan said, motioning to Kicker with a nod.

Nodding in response, Horace looked to his king. "Someone's got to find Will before he does something stupid. Might as well be me, considering both Gilan and Halt are tied up with a new Task Force mission."

Crowley nodded, covering his face with a hand. "I still can't believe that right after I assigned that, Will decides to go rogue. Either way," he said with an exhausted, and somewhat sad, smile, "you're already too late to stop him."

_That can't be good,_ Horace winced. "What'd he do?"

The commandant dug into his tunic, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Horace immediately noticed that it was the standard stationary for official Ranger correspondence. He took it from Crowley's outstretched hand, and opened it up. Recognizing Halt's writing, Horace frowned, and prepared himself for some bad news.

Horace read aloud, for the others to hear:

_Crowley—_

_After hearing what you had to say about Will, I figured this would be good for Horace to know, before he sets out to go looking for him:_

_Alyss had been recently complaining about someone stalking and harassing her. I know she already told Horace about that, but I'm not sure if she told him that it was Percy, trying to ask her for forgiveness for his previous actions. Of course she didn't listen to him, and when she told me, I of course went out looking for him. But I couldn't find a trace of him. One night, I even told Alyss that I would shadow her as she walked back from Jenny's, but he never showed. Somehow, he must've known._

_Knowing Will, this could very well be what made him leave his fief. Even now, he wouldn't abandon Norgate unless it was important._

_Adding onto that . . . Alyss has recently gone missing. She went to Jenny's, and, according to Jenny, lost track of time, and accidently stayed past dark. The butcher recalls hearing a slight muffled conflict outside his shop, and the sounds of a few raised voices, and even a horse or two. I can't find her anywhere, but I did find tracks of two horses leaving Wensley village to the north. I wasn't able to follow them far before they had been obliterated by Mother Nature._

_I don't know whether she is with Will or Percy, or both, but she left with only the clothes on her back, and a saxe knife I gave her as better protection then her old dagger._

_My best bet is that they are headed for Norgate, so I would suggest going there. If they aren't there, then I don't know where else. But if you find Alyss, if you find Will, you will probably find the other. And maybe Percy._

— _Halt_

Sighing, Horace folded the letter back up, and handed it over to Crowley.

Duncan grimaced, as did Cassandra, while Crowley just grumbled something underneath his breath while putting the letter back in its place.

"Better get going, then," Horace mumbled, mounting Kicker.

* * *

Will looked up to see how far the sun had to go before it was down. It was about time for them to settle down for the night, and so he started to look for an inn at the town they were currently going through. To be less conspicuous, Percy rode with his hands untied, on Will's pack pony. Alyss rode double with Will, hands wrapped around his waist. He wouldn't admit it, neither to himself nor someone else, how much he had missed her touch.

Alyss gestured towards a sign hanging from a two story building. Will didn't bother to look at the sign, but let Alyss dismount before dismounting himself. Then he led the pack pony with Percy on the back into the stables, Tug and Alyss following behind. After getting the horses situated, Alyss led the way into the inn, holding the door open for Percy behind her, and Will behind him.

The Ranger admired her for her integrity. She seemed comfortable enough to move around her ex-abuser, comfortable enough to lead the way with Percy behind her. Maybe it was because Will was prepared to cut his Achilles tendon at any moment, but it could have been anything else.

As Alyss started to head for the bar, Will put his arm around Percy in a friendly manner, and led him to a booth at the far corner of the room. Percy went into the corner, Will sitting on the outside, mainly to keep him from running. The two men looked at each other, Will's hand easily going to the saxe at his side, with a smile on his face. Percy smiled nervously back, nodding as he put his hands on the table.

All three of them, including Alyss, had changed from their normal clothes. Will and Alyss would have been too noticeable in their uniforms, so at the first town they had come upon, Will had taken off his cloak and gone to the market to get different clothes. Alyss had even decided to disguise herself by wearing trousers and riding boots, as well as a cloth wrapped around her chest underneath her shirt to make her seem flatter than she was. With her blonde hair dyed brown, and tucked into a cap, she appeared to be a young boy. Will had decided to keep his scruff, which he kept scratching at, and had put his uncut hair into a bun that was easy to maintain by not maintain it at all. Percy, however, had just cut his hair, and changed his clothes.

Will glanced around them, pretending to check on Alyss, who was still up at the bar getting two rooms for the night. She seemed to be debating the price. In the opposite corner of the room, he saw another man sitting in the corner, partially obscured by the shadows. Will let his eyes go over him, as if he didn't see him.

Alyss seemed to agree to a price, and started to pull out her coin purse. The man held out his hand, but shook his head as Alyss, going under 'Allen', started to count out the pieces. "Pay half now, half in the morning. Policy, kid," Will heard the man say, motioning to the coins, but not touching any. Will nodded to himself, noting that they had chosen an honest establishment for the night. 'Allen' said something else to the barman, and the man nodded, and turned away with the money he had been paid.

She moved back over to their table, sliding into the bench across from Will and Percy. Smiling, she opened her mouth to say something, but a serving girl came up with a tray of three steaming cups of coffee. She set them on the table, one cup in front of each, before she held the tray at her side, and said: "Your dinner will be out shortly," and walked away.

When they were left alone, Will turned to Alyss, tilting his head towards the room. "There may be a Ranger watching from the opposite corner, Al. Just keep an eye on him, but don't make it look obvious. We don't know why he's here."

They settled in, Will drawing his cup of coffee to him, taking it black rather than go asking for some honey. Alyss did the same, tired from the recent hard traveling they had been doing. At first, she didn't realize why they were riding so fast, why Will was in such a rush, until he explained it on the second night, when they were camping. "I technically abandoned my fief, considering what I said to the Baron to get me such an extended leave. That's strike one. I'm also aiding and abetting a criminal, even though I'm not, by taking him with me," Will pointed to Percy, who was sitting in a sullen silence beside Will. "That's strike two. And, considering you disappeared during a time when your life was threatened by a stalker," by then, Percy had given up trying to protest, and just turned away from them, looking into the forest, "I could also be charged with kidnapping."

Alyss had frowned, confused by the words. "But I'm not kidnapped, I came willingly. And you're taking Percy to figure out who his employers are, how is that breaking the law?"

Will shrugged. "Because they don't know that."

Back at the inn, 'Allen' nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. Percy, however, stared sullenly at the steaming mug, not touching it.

"Don't waste that," Will muttered, pushing the mug closer to him.

Percy crinkled his nose, and leaned away. "I'm not the biggest fan of coffee. Too bitter."

For a moment, Will was silent. Then he calmly set his half empty mug to the table, and snorted. "Figures. I bet the coffee isn't the biggest fan of you, either." At that, he leaned across Percy, and slid the mug between him and Alyss. "Want some more, little brother?" he said sarcastically.

When their food came, Alyss and Will ate heartily, talking of old times. They both completely ignored Percy, who picked at his food, and glanced up every once and a while to look between the two of them. His ex-wife, dressed as a farmer's boy and talking happily with her ex-boyfriend, and the ex-boyfriend, who, despite seemingly being distracted and unobservant, never let either of his hands stray too far from his saxe. Percy was just lucky that Will had left his shortsword hidden on Tug's saddle along with an unstrung longbow, and whatever the other bow was.

Deep down, Percy knew he had done wrong. That he had no right to ask for forgiveness from someone he had abused mercilessly, from someone he had emotionally manipulated for years.

But he refused to acknowledge it. He refused to acknowledge that he had raped her, instead of made love with her. But the other two at the table with him, they knew. And they wouldn't let him forget it. Which, in his opinion, wasn't fair to him.

Abruptly, he was shoved out of his musings by Will standing up, and shaking him by the shoulder. "Come on, ol' buddy, ol' pal," Will said, smiling down on him.

Percy slid from the seat, and followed the two of them upstairs. Alyss pulled the keys from her pockets, and motioned at two of the doors just at the top of the stairs. Will took one silently from her hands, and unlocked one. Alyss unlocked the other.

"So what now," Percy mumbled falling into one of the beds. Will would share a room with him, to keep an eye on him. Tossing his bag on the other bed, Will closed the door, and locked it once more.

"Now, you go to sleep, or you try to escape and I cripple you." He turned to Percy, crossing his arms.

Percy didn't even bother to respond, and shoved his face into the pillow.

Will was about to go to bed himself, when there was a knock at the door. "Yes?" he said through the door.

"Will? Can I talk to you for a minute?" It was Alyss' voice.

"Stay here, Perry," Will said back to Percy, and unlocked the door.

"My name's not—" He was cut off by Will closing the door behind him.

Alyss was already leading the way back to her room. She had undressed, and was wearing a light shift that left a large portion of her legs uncovered, with a blanket over her shoulders to cover her from prying eyes.

After the two of them were alone in her room, Will closed the door quietly behind him, watching as Alyss went to the bed, and sat down on it. She seemed unsure of what she wanted to talk about, but she still smiled at him when she realized he was waiting. She patted the bed beside her.

Will pushed off from where he was leaning up against the door, and walked across the room to sit beside her. Purposely, he sat close, but not close enough that their legs would touch.

"What _are_ we doing, running off with Percy and coming north?" she murmured, looking to the window beside the bed. "What's the point?"

"To prevent another tragedy," Will responded, looking down to her bare feet. He hadn't undressed yet, and knew that three days of hard travel probably didn't smell to good on him. "We can't have another Norgate happen, but this time in the middle of the country. We need to figure out who the other people were, and who they worked for. And Percy is the only one that knows."

"Will," she said, frustrated, "I know that. And I've tried staying strong around him, I have. But why couldn't you just get the information from him, and leave him for the gallows?" Alyss wrapped her arms around her, hugging herself. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and Will realized that even her integrity wasn't eternal.

He reached for her arm, intending to assure her with a touch. "Alyss, I don't know everything he's done to you, and I won't force you to tell me. But I need to do this, I need him to make contact so the people aren't alarmed. So if you need to go back, if you need to get away from him, then I'll help you. You shouldn't be forced to stay with him, and you're not. So if you need to go—"

"No, Will, I . . ." Alyss hesitated, still not looking at Will's face. Even so, he could see the conflict on her face. "I want to stay. I do."

Will sighed, and moved his arm to her far shoulder, seeing if she would turn to face him. "Alyss—" he started to say, but was cut off—

Cut off as Alyss kissed him, interrupting whatever he had been about to say. What had he been about say? For a moment, he was confused. Was this just her grief talking, from her recent exposure to her abuser? Did she realize what she was doing?

He wanted to pull away, but instead found himself kissing her back, with his hands in her hair, set loose from its time in the cap. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, felt her leaning back, and suddenly he had to prop himself up with his elbow to keep himself from being completely on top of her.

His other hand slipped from her hair, tracing her form through the thin shift that didn't do a good job of hiding what was underneath it. He could feel that she had taken the tight cloth off her breasts, that she wore nothing underneath the shift. When his hand found the bare, warm skin of her thigh, he held it. Her arm slipped to his back, trying to pull him down on top of her, for his body to be closer to her's.

And still they kissed. It was as if they didn't need to breathe, never releasing the other. It was only when Will's hand started to go up her thigh when Alyss moaned, and pushed her head up, her back and neck arching. Will kissed her jaw, over and over again, wanting her, needing her. Loving her.

Something knocked up against the wall.

Not one of their legs, or arms, no, something from the opposite side of the wall. Something from Will's own room.

Percy.

And suddenly, Will knew that he couldn't do this. Not now, not with _him_ so close. Not with _him_ still haunting her life.

Not too roughly, but firmly, Will pulled out of Alyss' grasp. He got back up, moving back from on top of her, and kept moving back until he was on the opposite side of the room.

Alyss, still on the bed, an astonished and confused look on her face.

Will quickly straightened his clothes, noticing that she had opened his shirt without him realizing it. He redid it, not looking at her, his face burning.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, not a single sliver of anger in her voice.

Clearing his throat, Will looked back to the door. "Don't want Percy to get any wrong ideas," he replied, and started to move for the door.

"Will." She moved from her position, standing up from the bed. She didn't bother to cover the skin that the shift revealed.

_I need to tell her, before she gets the wrong impression,_ Will thought. He turned back to her, so they were facing each other from across the room. Alyss looked at him in a straightforward manner. He could barely bring himself to look at her face. "Alyss, I—I didn't mean anything, by not . . . not, y'know—"

"Continuing," she finished for him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He nodded confirmation, running his hand through his hair nervously.

Alyss walked towards him, dropping her arms from her chest. Will kept his eyes on her face, watching her as she approached. Once more, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her. Again, he tried not to notice how her breasts were pushed against him. "Will," she murmured, staring into his eyes, studying him. "I know my limitations, Will. I know that I just recently got out of my relationship with Percy, and I know that _you know_ the majority of what he's done to me," she said firmly. Will gulped, but didn't look away. "What he did hurt me, it scarred me, and I don't know how it'll effect my later relationship."

For some reason, the fact that she left 'relationship' singular made him want to stay with her, to forget Percy. But he couldn't.

"I may have been married to Percy," she whispered, still looking into his eyes, "but that doesn't mean I loved him. I never loved him, never as I loved you."

* * *

The next morning, Will stood waiting with Percy at the front door, waiting for Alyss, dressed as a boy once more, to finish paying the barman the second half of their fee. They seemed to agree on something, Alyss nodding, and taking an extra coin back. She turned away, thanking him for their hospitality, and walked back to where Will waited with Percy.

They walked out the front door, and turned the corner together, heading for the stables. This time, Will walked in first, with Percy beside him, and Alyss behind them.

Someone was standing beside Tug, who kept shaking his head, and looking oddly at the figure.

Will motioned for the other two to stop, while he kept walking towards the man. "Hello, sir, can I help you with something?" Will asked, waving his hand in a friendly manner.

When the man looked up, Will clenched his jaw, recognizing the Ranger. Clarke. And now that he got a good look at him, Will could tell that he was the same Ranger that had been sitting in the corner last night. "Will. Odd, I wasn't expecting to see you so far south this time of the year," he said, smiling.

_They've been notified already? Shit . . ._ Will smiled anyways, and decided to act oblivious. "Excuse me, sir? What do you mean?"

"Don't act oblivious, Will. Letting your scruff grow in and tying uncut hair into a bun isn't your best disguise," Clarke snapped, stepping forward. "Now Crowley is pissed, okay? Who tells their Baron that they've been reassigned when they weren't, huh? Who kidnaps their ex-girlfriend, Will—"

Will didn't want to hear him anymore. Instead of going about it in a normal, Ranger way, which he knew Clarke would see coming, Will decided to try something else.

Bringing his own knee into someone else crotch was hard, especially because he knew how it could hurt, but after seeing Alyss do it, he knew it was effective. Clarke gasped, and stumbled forward. Will grabbed the collar of his shirt, tightening it.

His aim wasn't to kill Clarke, just to incapacitate him. But he was still attacking someone he knew, someone he had tested for their apprentice exams, given advice, worked alongside. And here he was, _choking_ him.

He dropped his hand, releasing the collar and letting Clarke drop limply to the ground. Alyss and Percy stared at him, wide-eyed, as Clarke moaned on the ground.

"Let's get going," Will snapped, "before he gets up."

* * *

Knowing he was busy with a new assignment, Horace risked knocking anyway. It took a few minutes, and knocking again multiple times, but eventually Pauline showed up at the door, an uncharacteristic frown on her face. Upon seeing Horace, she lightened up a bit, but still seemed tired.

"Everything all right, Pauline?" Horace asked, concerned for her well-being.

Pauline smiled, nodding as she brought out two mugs of steaming coffee. "Oh, I'm fine, Horace, dear. Just a little tired. Halt's been up and that's been keeping me up."

"Halt? Not being quiet enough to let his wife sleep?" Horace asked incredulously.

She had been about to respond, but footsteps sounded down the hall. Pauline winked to Horace, and stood. "I put made coffee for you dear," she said, the footsteps stopping when she started to talk, "and you have a visitor." Continuing down the hall, she passed whoever stood there, saying nothing more.

"Don't you know that I have other things to do, Horace," came the growl from the shadows.

Horace winced, realizing that he had woken Halt from sleep, despite it being noon. Maybe bringing Alyss' name into this would soften Halt to Horace's blunder. "I know, Halt, but this is for Alyss."

For a moment, Halt looked as if he would kick Horace from his apartment, and go back to sleep. But then his eyes softened, and he looked away from Horace's face. Halt may be hard, but when it came to Pauline or Alyss, it was a different story. He could go to the ends of the world to find Will, and he would do the same for the women he loved.

Halt sighed, and sat down, taking Pauline's abandoned mug in his hand, and taking a gulp of the still scalding coffee. He didn't notice, or didn't care, for he took a second gulp, wincing as it burned his throat. "Okay, fine. For Alyss," he squinted his eyes shut, covering them with a hand, as if trying to dispel a headache. "What do you need to know? What do you know already?"

"Not much. Where was she going? Coming from?"

"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Horace, she would go to dinner with Jenny. Just the two of them, a nice dinner with a friend. She was coming back late—she always came back early, but Jenny said she lost track of time—"

"Why would she always come back early?" He was asking the obvious, but Horace wanted to be sure that he knew every detail for sure.

Halt must've figured the same thing, for he didn't protest, but just answered. "Someone was following her. Stalking her, harassing her. She said she knew who it was, but I never found evidence of it being who she said, nor did I ever find him. I gave her Will's old saxe for better protection."

Immediately, Horace knew who Halt was talking about. "Percy?"

Nodding, Halt lifted the mug, taking another gulp. "Bothering her, trying to get her to forgive him or something. I tried shadowing her one time, but found nothing."

Horace frowned. Halt had just told him everything he had said in the letter. There was really nothing else he needed, meaning that he had woken Halt for nothing . . . except.

The knight pulled out the original letter he had gotten from Alyss, complaining of someone following her and Halt's failure to catch who it was. Horace held it out to Halt. The old Ranger squinted it at, but ended up giving up trying to read it. "That's Alyss' signature at the bottom, right?" Halt mumbled, not willing to admit that he couldn't read the paper, and that he might need reading glasses.

"Did she send a letter to Will? At any time?"

It was Halt's turn to frown. He leaned back from the table, looking at the letter as just a basis point to try and remember. "I think . . . " he started, but paused, his scowl deepening. "She must've. I remember her coming to the door, and she had a small pile of letters for Pauline to send out for her. That's how they did it, the girls. Alyss would give her mail to Pauline, and Pauline would go and send them while doing whatever business she had down with the scribes. By the time she returned, Alyss would always have their days work started."

"So?" Horace said, leaning forward.

"So," Halt sighed, sitting back up, "she had multiple letters. Pauline had forgotten something in here, and I heard her say something to Alyss about 'her recent correspondence with that young man'. 'Young man' could mean anyone, and when you said you had gotten a letter, I thought it meant you . . . but with Will's recent behavoir, leaving his fief and all, where else would he have gone? You told me how he reacted around Percy the second time," Halt went on, "how angry he got. If Will heard that Percy was bothering her, what do you think he would have done?"

It was a rhetorical question.

* * *

"Why are you always so damn bitter," Percy blurted, his annoyance no longer bearable. When he realized what he said, his eyes widened, and he gripped the saddle of the pack pony, his knuckles going white. He also didn't dare to turn his head, and look Will in the face. For a good five minutes, as the two horses plodded on, the former courier could feel the Ranger glaring daggers at him.

Eventually, Will turned away, and the three of them continued on in silence.

It was another five minutes before Percy heard Alyss whisper something to Will, not loud enough for himself to hear. Stealing a glance towards them, Percy saw how Alyss was pressed up against Will, and how Will's off hand had naturally fallen on her thigh while his other hand held his horse's reins.

A twinge of jealousy colored his cheeks, and he turned away. Alyss was his, and seeing her in the arms of another man, and that man being _Will Treaty_ angered him. He would get both of them back, eventually.

"Y'know, Will," Alyss murmured quietly, but this time loud enough for Percy to hear. "You have changed. Since you left for Norgate."

Will sighed, and turned in the saddle to look at her. He had to release her leg to do so, but this way he was practically touching noses with her, so physical touch wasn't necessary. There was a tad bit of annoyance in his eyes, and he studied her for a moment, before looking over to Percy again. The daggers returned, boring holes into him, and Percy whipped his head forward once more.

Alyss whispered something once more, leaning forward to do so. Percy watched out of the corner of his eye, envying how she pressed her body against his, lifted her hands from his waist to go around his neck. It seemed unfair—she had never done that to him, never had embraced him like that. And they had been married!

"And?" Will grumbled, apparently answering whatever Alyss had whispered into his ear.

She sighed, and motioned towards Percy. At first he thought she was pointing to him, but when she said: "Why do you never play your mandola anymore, Will? You played beautifully, and I haven't heard it in so long."

The Ranger shifted in the saddle uncomfortable.

Alyss continued. "I know this is probably frustrating, Will, but when someone changes as dramatically as you have, it's concerning. You loved playing your mandola."

Will turned his head, facing away from where Percy was at, and looked out into the forest. It looked as if he were looking for a place to camp. Apparently, they weren't going into an inn this night.

"Norgate is different . . ." Will murmured, still looking away. "According to Crowley, Norgate and Redmont are equal in dangers. But he doesn't account for _everything,_ like location and who's in charge. Arald is capable, and Cormac can barely go an hour without napping for twenty minutes and having a few cups of wine for the remaining forty minutes. Sir Doric can barely go five minutes without complaining about something.

"That ends up putting a lot of pressure on whoever the current Ranger is. I was basically never at my cabin, I was always doing rounds of the fief, because by the time I got back it would be time to go back out. Scotti raids happened daily, and a lot of the times I was never around to help, and the villages weren't protected enough to survive," Will's eyes flicked down, but he continued to talk. All three heard when his voice cracked, "I ended up burying more people than saving. I never understood why people stayed, but I guess it has to do with having nowhere else to go.

"I learned new things, obviously. With all these problems, including the normal bandits and murders and daily problems, things add up. I learned a heavier weapon, my short sword, because there was no way I could fight the Scotti with just a few knives. I learned to carry more weapons than I needed, in hidden sheaths, because the bad guys knew where to look. I learned how to pick locks, how to kill someone silently while drawing no blood, how to survive long periods in freezing weather . . . how to survive in practical anarchy.

"I don't know why other Ranger's didn't tell Crowley how bad it was, or if it just started with me," Will finished, finally wrenching his eyes off the ground. He began to look for a resting place once more.

Alyss was silent. As was Percy—although he was having different thoughts than Alyss. _That explains why he let me marry Alyss in the first place, but came back and threatened to skin me alive,_ he figured, looking between the pair.

The three of them were silent for some time after Will had finished, Will himself focusing on finding a suitable place to sleep. Alyss just silently wrapped her arms once more around his waist and hugged him. Percy continued to think, taking in all he had learned.

"I don't think I played that well, either way," Will murmured into the silence. "I haven't picked it up in years, too busy with the fief . . ." He looked over to Percy, and studied the man who sat with some of his possessions. He had cleared out the Ranger cabin to make it more believable that he was leaving, which was why he had the pack pony with him in the first place. "I only kept it because . . . well, it was a gift from Orman," he said quietly. "With him gone, I could never give it away."

"Do you remember any songs?" Alyss asked.

Will smiled mirthlessly. "Unfortunately. Just a few." As if trying to get away from the questions, Will gestured off path. "That looks like a good place as any." Pulling Tug off path, Will dismounted and held a hand up for Alyss. She took it, despite not needing it, and swung down from the horse. After giving Percy a look, Will nodded, and their prisoner/companion dismounted the smaller pack pony.

Alyss gathered firewood as Will pulled out the tent, and started to hang it from branches. It was going to be a nice night, but he hung it up either way. He also let a side drape down, so Alyss could get some privacy from the men and some separation from Percy. Will, of course, slept in between them.

Percy sat there for a moment, still not sure what he should be doing. Usually Will gave him something to do, a chore. This time, Will did everything himself—and kept himself armed the entire time. _Something's different this time,_ Percy thought, his eyes narrowing, _he used to take off his belt when we finished traveling for the day._

He learned what was different when Will took the firewood from Alyss, and sat down nearby Percy to start making the fire. Alyss stood across the camp, riffling through her bag as she dragged of the cap from her head, and let her hair tumble down her back. When Percy turned back, Will had already kindled the fire, but was once more staring daggers at him. He had been caught staring at Alyss—specifically her butt—and it wasn't appreciated. Percy wondered if Will would tell Alyss, or keep it from her.

"How do you contact them?" Will asked, voice normal so it carried across their small camp to where Alyss gathered clothes to change into. She glanced over, but went back to doing her thing.

Hesitating, Percy looked at the fire. It was still building, but the sparks were jumping, landing near where he sat. Will had sat down closer to the fire, but he didn't seem to care about the possibility of catching fire. "I—what?" Percy asked, inching his way backwards, his eyes downcast. With Will around, it felt like looking at anything but the ground could get him in trouble.

"I know they're in Norgate, that was easy enough to determine after the war. Far enough north to join up with the Scotti, and to the east, the direction they came from when converging with them," Will leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Now don't make me ask twice," he hissed.

Percy leaned back, not wanting to get to close to the angry Ranger. "I—uh, well, I—" he gulped, realizing he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Except the rock was Will, and the hard place was the people they were looking for. Both were extremely dangerous—his problem was discovering which one was worse. "I—I know how to contact them," he murmured. "But using it won't be appreciated. I'm not supposed to contact them without them contacting me first. I'm not sure how they'll react to me breaking the rules."

Will was silent. He stared at Percy hard, and didn't react when Alyss plopped herself down beside him, now dressed comfortably in her standard traveling clothes. She looked between the two of them, noticing Will's focus. Her eyes flicked up as well, and studied Percy—the grey in her eyes finally proving to him to be a storm not worth fighting.

Abruptly, Will stood, grabbing Alyss' hand and dragging her up with him. "If it brings them to us, I don't care," he said flippantly. Releasing Alyss' hand, he walked across to where he had thrown Tug's saddle, and riffled through the saddle bag, looking for something. Seconds later, he drew out a leather tube, used for keeping maps preserved while traveling. He walked back over to where Alyss stood above Percy, and sat down between them once more. Alyss followed his example, sitting back down.

"Show me," he said, spreading the map out before them.

* * *

Going off Halt's advice, Horace rode to Norgate. His best guess as to where Will would take Percy and Alyss would be Malcolm, or a place nearby. Why, the knight didn't know, but it was his best guess. Will hadn't left much evidence, and neither had Alyss. And technically, Percy didn't live in Araluen at all.

So the only clue Horace had were Will's motivations.

Except Horace had no idea _what_ Will's motivations were behind his recent rash actions. All he knew was that Alyss was getting harassed by her ex-husband, and that she had notified Will as well as Halt and himself. Will had probably seen something that no one else had, and decided to take his chance with coming to get Percy and abandoning his fief. But what had he seen? Noticed?

From Horace's knowledge, the last time Will had _officially_ seen Percy was when he had chased him off in Redmont. But Will had confided in Horace, who had told Duncan and pleaded to keep it secret, that he had found Percy near Norgate after the battle. The Ranger hadn't said if they spoke, or, if they did, what was said. After seeing Will's face, however, Horace knew. Will had spoken to Percy, learned something new.

Meaning Percy obviously had something to do with this. And knowing Will's recent relationship with Alyss and his sometimes alarming protective behavior—this wasn't going to end well.

Horace sighed, and looked around him. He was coming close to the Norgate border, which was good. He had rode as fast as Kicker and himself could manage, which of course didn't compare to a Ranger horse's abilities. But after a brief correspondence with Baron Cormac and his messenger, Crowley was able to tell him that Will had emptied his cabin to make it seem like he had actually been reassigned. He would be traveling with his possessions, including the pack pony.

And Kicker rode faster than a pack pony laden down with a person's life.

* * *

Percy roughly pushed open the door to the inn, leading Will and Alyss inside. The barkeep looked up from shining a glass, seeing the newcomers. As they sat down together, Percy on the inside with Will on the outside, and 'Allen' sitting across from Will, a young boy came over, a small pad in his hand.

He stood at the edge of their booth, a bright smile on his face. "Welcome to the Cracked Flagon. My name is Gerald, can I get you all anything?"

Percy spoke, surprising both Will and Alyss, "Ah, actually can you give us a few minutes?"

Gerald nodded, putting his note pad into a pocket, and walking away to serve some other newcomers that had followed them in.

Not knowing what Percy wanted, Will stood up, looking unsurely between Percy and Alyss. Percy wouldn't do anything to her in public . . . would he? "I'll go see if they have two rooms for us," Will mumbled, making eye contact with Alyss. She smiled reassuringly, indicating that she would be fine.

"Actually," Percy said, reaching up to grab the elbow of Will's sleeve. "Just get one room, for yourself and Alyss. I'll get my own room." Will pulled his arm roughly from Percy's grasp, glaring down at him. It was bad enough that he was trusting him for this, but letting him be on his own?

"Why should I trust you?" Will snapped, leaning forward so that not the entire bar would hear their argument.

"Look," Percy murmured, moving back to be out of Will's face. "They would have known the moment I walked in. They would have also noticed if I interacted with someone. Us sitting together is bad enough, I don't know what any of this could spell out for me."

Will was silent at that, his eyes narrowing as he studied the man before him. In that time, Alyss broke in. "Us."

"What?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow while turning his head to look at her.

Roughly, Will seized his chin, dragging Percy's face back to him. "Don't talk down to her," he hissed, before released his hold, and leaning forward once more. "Us. You said 'me', meaning yourself. She says 'us', because it could get us all killed," Will snapped, still keeping his voice low. "If you would have _told_ us—"

"I did," Percy snapped back, anger entering his voice. "I _told_ you that they didn't like being contacted first, I _said_ —"

"That's not telling us that coming in here together would get us killed, genius," Alyss pointed out, getting to her feet. "C'mon darling," she said loudly, drawing out her voice to make it obvious that she wasn't from the area, "we shouldn't have trusted this guy to get us to Norgate. I told you he was sketchy." With that, she spun, and marched over to the bar, leaning over it to call for the barkeep. Sometime in between saying 'us', and standing up, she had drawn off her cap to let her hair spill down her back. She was once more taking the role of a woman.

As she leaned over the counter, Will noticed that she also hadn't put on the cloth around her breasts, and that her shirt was slightly open. She was using every available resource, which Will couldn't blame her for—because even he wouldn't say that he wasn't comfortable with her flaunting her body like that. Looking back down on Percy, Will glared at him, blaming him for everything.

Technically, that wasn't fair. But on the other hand, it was _all_ completely _his_ fault.

"What did you have to gain from any of this," Will whispered, for once letting his hands drop from his saxe.

Percy saw the movement, but that didn't comfort him at all. "I get what my father never got," he murmured back, his eyes avoiding Will's while he looked around the room. His eyes went for Alyss, who was still talking with the barkeep while still leaning over the counter.

Scoffing, Will spun where he stood, leaving Percy. Purposely, he moved in between Alyss and Percy, blocking her from his sight. _He's doing all of this out of greed,_ Will thought as he walked to Alyss, _just like his father. At least Keren went through the proper channels, and wasn't a total bastard. But how could his son have been so obsessed with the woman his_ father _was vying after that he had to go marry her for himself?_

Alone, Percy watched as Will slipped his arm protectively around Alyss, who was being eyed by not only the barkeep, but also a few drunkards who sat around the room. Percy sighed, watching Will claim what was rightfully his. As he looked on, seeing the couple go up the stairs, a cold realization suddenly settled in his stomach.

He didn't have any money for a room.

Eyes going wide, he considered his options. He would only make contact when he was in a room, so not in the barns or sleeping in the forest. Will had all the money, and if he was under the guise of a fired guide, it wouldn't be right to go to their door asking for money to get a room. He could call it his payment, but they'd blundered around too much as it was. He would have to sleep in the forest that night, with no supplies, and find Will the next day and explain what happened.

Percy looked around him, wondering if he could pickpocket someone. But everyone's purses were guarded, or right near the person's blade.

Looking back to the table, he saw a crumpled up piece of paper at the far end of the table. Percy reached for it, grasping it in his hand. Unfolding it, a few coins rattled out and onto his hands—just enough to get a room.

Upstairs, Alyss looked at the number etched into the key, and compared it to the numbers on the doors. Just around the corner of the initial stair case, she came upon the door with 4 painted decoratively on a plate that had been somehow connected to the door. "Home sweet home," Will murmured from behind her.

Smiling, she unlocked the door, leading him inside.

_I'm not hungry anyways,_ Will thought to himself, watching her move about the room. She slid the window open, letting in the night's fresh, cool air. That was when he noticed that there was only one bed in the room, but the door shut behind him, cutting off his chances of possibly getting a room switch.

Alyss flopped down onto the bed, patting the bed beside her invitingly.

Someone knocked at the door.

Scowling, Alyss leaned back, and stared at the ceiling, leaving Will to answer the door.

Turning back around, Will opened the door a crack, and peeked out into the hall to see who was there.

"What the hell do you want," Will muttered, seeing Percy in the hall. "And how the hell did you know this was our room?"

"I saw you close the door," Percy murmured, looking up and down the hall. "I just thought I should say that my room is the one in front of the steps."

"Okay," Will bluntly, staring at him.

Percy paused awkwardly, looking at Will's face. He was spooked by something, his eyes wide. He played with the room key in his hands, feeling the groves and the shape of it as he fidgeted at their door. "They'll just walk into the room around midnight—is what usually happens," he whispered, "The only way to know is to watch the doorway."

Will nodded silently, his eyes still on Percy. As he started to turn away from the door, Will finally spoke: "Percy."

He looked back up.

"If you screw us over," Will breathed, leaning more out of the door so Alyss couldn't tell what he was saying, "If you screw us over, I will not hesitate to gut you and take your shriveled balls as a nice trophy. Just because I'm a Ranger doesn't mean that I won't break the law—my job, or at least my interpretation of it, is to get things done _despite_ the law."

Will didn't know what to expect for Percy's reaction, but it certainly wasn't the calm nod he gave. Having threatened him before, Will knew how Percy would _normally_ react when threatened.

"Can I speak to Alyss?" the abusive, traitorous ex-husband asked, his voice suspiciously back to normal.

The Ranger wanted to say "Fuck off, you pretentious, abusive asshole," but paused. It was Alyss' life, not his own. It was Alyss' choice, not his own. Turning in the doorway, Will looked back into the room behind him. "Do you want to talk to Percy?" he asked softly, seeing her questioning glance.

Alyss hesitated. He would want to apologize, again. And again. That was all he ever wanted with her, to apologize and to goggle at her breasts and butt. He didn't love her, not even as a friend, and never had. She turned away without answering.

Will opened the door once more, pushing his head through the cracked door. "Good try, Lyon, but no."

Without another word, Percy turned on his heels, and walked back down the hall towards his room. And Will watched him go.

Knowing that Percy didn't care about the threat anymore because he was on the side of someone worse than him.

Closing the door, Will turned and leaned up against it. He stared at Alyss, thinking, and she stared back, remaining silent so he could think. "He'll tell them we're here," Will whispered to her, "he'll betray us. He's done everything out of greed so far. He only cares for self-preservation anyways. He may say it, but he doesn't care for you, Alyss," Will whispered, looking into her eyes. "He only cares for himself."

* * *

"I only stayed with him because I thought he would get better. Because I thought that he would eventually become the man I knew before we got married," Alyss murmured, studying Will's hand in between her own. She lay across the bed, on her side. Will sat on the floor beside her, leaning against the side of the bed. He held her hand, stroking it. "And it wasn't all the time, never too much at once. It would happen, and I would get angry, defensive. And then it wouldn't happen for a few months, and I would think he's gotten better, that maybe this hitting problem was a thing of the past . . ." she trailed off, staring off into the distance.

Absently, she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"And then it would happen again," Will murmured, leaning forward and wiping her other cheek as another tear trailed down her face. "The cycle would begin again."

Alyss nodded, and pulled her knees to her chest. "I didn't want to ask for help . . . not at first. It was my problem, I had gotten myself into the situation, so I needed to get myself out of it."

"There's nothing wrong with asking for help, Alyss." Will leaned forward, studying her eyes as she avoided his. "Alyss—" he started, intending to point out why there was no shame in being the victim, why there was nothing wrong with asking for help—

But the night was shattered by a scream, ripping through the air and tearing the peaceful reverie to pieces.

Flinching, Alyss pulled away from Will, sitting up in bed and looking towards the window.

The screech trailed off, still loud and high, and blood curdling.

Will stumbled to his feet, knowing that it hadn't come from outside. _How did I get so distracted? Damnit!_ Flinging himself to the door, Will ripped it open, and ran out into the hallway. Other patrons of the inn were sticking their heads out of the doorways. "King's Ranger! Get back in your rooms," Will snarled, running past them.

Doors slammed as he flew by, knowing the Norgate Ranger's angry reputation—not knowing that he had technically been reassigned. Macindaw was far from Norgate, and news took a while to travel. To them, he was still their Ranger.

Arriving at the door, Will pushed against it, hoping to find it unlocked. No such luck, he was forced to take out his lock picks. His fingers kept slipping, at one point actually cracking one of his picks and forcing him to take out another. But then the lock clicked, and Will pushed his way into the room.

Blood was everywhere.

The bed was soaked deep with blood, so dark it was nearly black. Guts and intestines scattered the floor, and something that looked grey and squishy spattered the previously light beige wall. Even Will, who had probably seen worse, stumbled back at the sight of the gore, bile rising in his throat as his hand rose to cover his mouth.

A decapitated head sat on the bedside table, with something shoved into its mouth and a note pinned to its forehead.

Hearing murmurs in the hallway, Will spun, slamming the door, and closed himself inside. He didn't lock it.

Will turned back around studying the scene once more.

Blood, guts, what was presumably part of the intestines or the brain was splattered across the walls. Stepping forward, Will felt his foot splash into a pool of blood. Looking down, a few fingers littered the floor with their nails ripped out. _Torture?_

Moving towards the bed, Will kept a hand over his mouth, and made sure to avoid the pieces of the human body. A finger here, part of the foot rolled underneath a table, a penis with the testicles hanging down pinned to the wall above the window with a knife. Will's lip curled at seeing the last detail, not ever wanting to see that. The closer he got to the bed, the more certain he became of the torso being cut into pieces and being scattered around the room—including on and underneath the bed.

Arriving at the table, Will studied the head.

Percy's eyes had been ripped out, and supposedly squashed and stuffed into his mouth. _Before or after he died?_ Bloody slashes were crisscrossed across his face, and it looked as if some of the teeth were pried out. _I guess that answers my question . . ._ The note that was pinned to the forehead was clear of blood, the only thing clean in the room.

Will reached out, dreading having to touch Percy's mutilated head. But he had to know what the note said. If a note was left, they probably knew that someone was there with him.

"What the hell did you do!" an exclamation came from behind him. Horace stood agape in the room, having opened the door and walked in without Will hearing him. No blood spattered his shoes, unlike Will's, proving that he had just walked in. The knight's eyes were wide with horror, his face wan and distraught. " _Please_ tell me you didn't do this, Will!" Horace moved towards him, still partially in shock, but moved back to his spot by the doorway. He wouldn't walk in the blood.

"You think _I_ did this?" Will hissed, suddenly not caring who heard or who was around. "You _seriously_ thought that Horace? I know I've been an asshole recently, but I'm not a sadistic murderer who cuts up people for _fun."_

Horace tried to breathe, but found it hard to do so. "I need to get out of here," he said, more to himself than to Will. The Ranger's own face was chalk pale, and possibly slightly green. "What does that say?" Horace still managed to say, pointing to the head next to where Will stood.

Will turned, realizing he had forgotten the note. Not wanting to touch the head, he simply grabbed the corner of the paper, and ripped it, leaving the pin shoved into Percy's forehead. Will didn't register his face, mainly because of how mutilated it was, but also because he couldn't bring himself to care that Percy was gone. He had never had any love for the man—he was just sickened by what had happened to him.

Unfolding the note, Will absently walked back towards the door, ignoring the gore around him. It was easier to block it out, compared to taking it in and dealing with it. And he knew Horace wouldn't walk to him.

Standing beside his friend, Will read the note aloud: " _Good try, Mr. Treaty. Our turn."_

They both fell still, confused for a moment.

And then Horace said: "Will. Where's Alyss?"

After that, Will's memory was blurred. He remembered looking up to Horace, not sure what he was implying.

And the pristine white paper, now stained with blood from where it had fallen on the ground, obliterating the words.

And the slam of the door as he ripped it open, the trail of blood and gore he left behind him as he ran.

And how simple the plate with the number 4 looked to him as he pushed open the door to the room he shared with Alyss.

And he remembered an empty room, a peaceful sight compared to what he had seen in Percy's room. The curtains being gently billowed out to the sides by the slight breeze, framing the window that opened out into a deep, dark, and silent night.


End file.
